I Thought You Were a Lady
by scousemuz1k
Summary: A Doris story. Tony returns from the Seahawk after his time as agent afloat, to find a surprise waiting for him.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: It's all Proseac's fault... she's coming over in the Spring, so I thought, what a good idea to get the guest room replastered during the dry Summer weather. And what a good idea to knock all the old plaster off myself to save money... I can hardly damn MOVE! Even with my great big son's help, it did me in, I never knew I had hamstrings before... so here I am, back sitting at my desk writing again instead of the aforesaid moving. **

**I have quite a big, and risky but very enjoyable project to take on soon, and it's my own fault because I volunteered for it, so I'm getting this comparatively short one out of my hair first. **

I Thought You Were a Lady

by scousemus1k

Chapter 1

"Tony is late," Ziva said in surprise, looking dubiously at the SFA's empty desk as she returned from Abby's lab with a report. "He was so happy to be back – and you know it only took those two days and I am used to having him back –"

"You mean it feels like he's never been away," Tim laughed.

"He'll be here in a minute, Ziva," Gibbs said in a mild tone that was rather belied by his edgy glance towards the elevator. "He went down to Duet over the weekend."

"He called just now to say he'd bring breakfast," Tim added.

"Oh, breakfast, good," Ziva said. "You know, I always seem to like his choice."

"Me too. He said it was his turn. And you're right, we do seem to have settled back into things very quickly."

(Tony, Ziva and Gibbs had returned from the_ Seahawk _late on the Wednesday, the team had worked flat out on cases for the next two days, and only Gibbs had seemed inexplicably disappointed that they hadn't caught another case to spoil a free weekend. ) Yes, it _did_ feel good to have the team back together, after all that had happened, and Tim included in that his time of being called 'Boss'. You bet he'd like to do that again one day, but not in a daylight-less basement, to a team of gentle souls, however smart. He was a field agent now, and relished every moment of it – and the man currently slouching out of the elevator had had no small hand in that. Was Tim imagining that Gibbs looked even edgier?

Tony deposited a cup and a paper sack on Ziva's desk with a cheery greeting, then did the same for Tim. He dropped his own breakfast on his desk, then put Gibbs' sack down in front of him rather purposefully. The Boss looked up, and it was clear that he was expecting something. Tony spoke heavily.

"I trusted you, Boss." His tone was flat with accusation. The two younger agents sat up straight, and waited, aghast, for Gibbs' response. Half-way down the stairs, the Director paused, curious.

No eruption. "Well, yeah, DiNozzo -" It sounded as if Gibbs was about to make an _excuse_ for something. Gibbs?

"I trusted you to look after her. Even reminded you... gave you a coded message... you understood about feeding the chickens, didn't you?"

"Yeah, DiNozzo, I did."

Tony flung his arms out dramatically. "Then why is my girl _pregnant_?"

Vance almost fell down a couple of steps. With all his years of experience he still couldn't help blurting out "DiNozzo, are you accusing Gibbs -"

"Oh, no, Director – we don't even _know_ who the father is!"

Light dawning, Tim stood up hastily. "Director, Agent DiNozzo's talking about a _horse_."

Vance blinked, opened his mouth and closed it again... he didn't want to know. He harrumphed and went on his way.

_The Mustang had needed servicing, and Tony's unexpected return hadn't left time for that. He could have done it this weekend, but he wanted to see Doris, and reassure his friends in Duet and Appelt that his sanity was more or less intact after his time at sea, so he'd got permission to borrow an agency car for his personal use instead. It had a very different sounding exhaust note from his Princess, and as he pulled up at the equestrian centre in the cool, green smelling early morning air, he reminded himself of that to sooth his disappointment that there was no brown head looking over the half door to greet him – and no Frames either for that matter. He picked up the foil pack of treacle sandwiches, and almost broke into an eager run as he went down the line of boxes, to the far end one on the right, next to the tack room._

_Doris stood at the back of her box, head almost level with her knees, eyes half closed. He felt guilty that he'd disturbed her rest, (although she was never usually resting at this time of day, she always wanted to be out and doing things,) so he said softly, "Hey, Gal." _

_Her head came up and that wonderful, joyful huff of welcome that he loved so much fluttered from her nostrils. She came to him at once, and he was almost sick with relief that she'd forgiven him his long absence. She nuzzled him and he hugged her, and produced his gift. "H'y'are, sweetie, I didn't forget..." To his utter astonishment, she sniffed the treat and moved her nose away. "Doris... what's up, girl?" She nuzzled him apologetically, but she definitely didn't want the treacle._

"_Try these," Sally's lilting voice said from behind him, and a tanned hand held out a palmful of dates._

"_Sally..." he hugged her, and flung an arm round the shoulders of Amos, who stood beside her._

"_Yeah," the older man said, "We've missed you too."_

_Doris accepted the dates as delicately as usual, and Sally said "It's all she'll bother with at the moment. And hay... we never used to leave a haynet overnight because it'd still be full in the morning, but lately she's decided she likes it."_

"_Was it me going away that changed her habits? I felt terrible... I know Gibbs has been coming down to see her, I was grateful for that. But -"_

_Amos sighed. "It sure seemed to first happen after you'd been away a few weeks, Tony. It's as if she could judge the time and realised this was longer than usual... she went into herself rather. She spends a lot of time standing in the back of her box thinking; sometimes she sits in the corner. When we turn her out for some company the only ones she'll talk to are the mules. And one or two of the placid horses... she's stand-offish with the others. I've actually seen her lash out at one."_

"_You never told me that, Moss! Why did -" a frown appeared between Sally's brows. "Wait wait wait... sits in the corner... you never told me that either. Moss!" she said severely, then went on. "Who've you seen her interacting with?" _

"_Er... Coco, and... Bluebell... yes, those two. And she lashed out at Angelo."_

_Doris, unruffled, politely requested another date, and as Tony fed her and fussed her, he was watching Sally. "Sal... what?"_

"_Mmm... those two mares have both been bred from. We've always suspected Angelo's a rig – inexpertly gelded, still has some stallionish habits – a bit of a pest round the mares. Doris is choosing her company, and her **not **company... and listening to her body... she's acting as if she's pregnant."_

"_You're kidding. Er, I mean... how could she be?" Tony was staring at his mare in astonishment. "She couldn't..."_

_Sally bit her lip. "Actually..."_

They'd hosted a gathering of American purebreds of different types, almost four months ago. The place had been teeming with quality animals, and owners who were sometimes careless. There'd certainly been one memorable night when one showjumping star had hopped a fence and four other horses had followed him; another time a gate had been left open. Most of the Frames' strong and easy going horses had been turned out in the paddocks so that visiting royalty could have their boxes, and Doris was no exception; besides, she was good at keeping order in the ranks. And yes, two of the animals that had got out were entires...

"_She doesn't make a fuss about being in season, Tony, so we don't always notice... but it was about the right time... and honestly, I've never known a mare in heat who wasn't an absolute floozy round the first fella that came along. Or a stallion who wasn't eager to take an opportunity! Oh damn, I should have realised."_

"_You really think she is? You do, don't you?"_

"_We'll do a test, but I do... those two mares would know... Oh lord, I'm sorry, Tony!"_

"_Don't be... It's er... I'm sure it'll be OK."_

He was really. He'd driven back in a daze. Doris had been just as affectionate, and just as enthusiastic on their rides, but yes, she was subtly different. She followed him around, almost like a clingy infant, and at other times went off into a dream. They'd done a test, and yes, he was about to become an honorary parent. He'd rubbed her ears, and fed her more dates before he left, and, at Sally's suggestion, left a jacket of his in her favourite corner. She'd looked at him soulfully. "I'll be back next weekend... I'm not letting you think I've abandoned you... sheesh... and I thought you were a lady! Well, we've got to look after you, and junior..."

Now he glared at Gibbs. "You suspected, didn't you? You knew about the night of the great escape, and you suspected. That's why you were hoping I wouldn't get down there this weekend. But you didn't tell Sally."

Gibbs stood up, and said quietly, "Wasn't sure... she's different... could'a been wrong. Was going to ask Sally this weekend, but then you came back. It's certain, then?"

Tony abandoned the outraged act and broke out in a huge grin. "Yeah... we're going to have a happy event. As long as it doesn't do her any harm, I'm happy about it. Amos says no reason it should, even though she's an older first time mom, but they're getting the vet to check her over anyway. Gonna cost me a fortune in dates... trust my gal to go for an expensive craving..."

"Dates? Oh, _dates_..." Ziva worked it out. "So," she said finally, "we were going to take you out for a meal tonight, if we don't catch a case, to celebrate your return, but now we have two things to celebrate, yes?"

"Sounds good, Ziva. Although you don't usually wet the baby's head until it's born..."

"Wet the baby's head? Do you mean the foal? Why would -"

Tim's explanation was interrupted by the sound of a slap and a wince, and Gibbs' level tones. "Don't wind me up like that again, DiNozzo."

"I gotcha, Boss..."Tony's smile was dazzling. It was _good _to be back. "But I could see the Director watching. Couldn't waste an opportunity like that - " he chuckled, "Any more than some _cad _of a stallion did with my Doris." Gibbs grunted and was about to go back to his desk when his SFA spoke very softly. "Haven't forgotten you fought for me, Boss." The Marine didn't move for a second, then he nodded, with just the suggestion of a pleased smile.

They settled down to paperwork and routine; it was mid-afternoon when Tony's phone buzzed.

"Hey, Si! Long time no see... like, yesterday... Really?" His tone went from joking to serious enough for Gibbs to hold off frowning at him for taking personal calls in school time. He was aware of the others listening as he dealt with his friend, who ranged between irate and plaintive as they talked. They watched him pull a pad towards him and scribble for a moment. "Cop in charge. Got that. Tell her I'm glad it wasn't worse, and she didn't get hurt." He disconnected.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Mary?"

"No, Boss. But you'll remember her... you said how you liked your coffee, and she didn't raise an eyebrow – just brought out the quadruple strength mule kick. You said it was perfect, and she decided you were a nice enough guy to be driving my car, and 'looking after me'." He made air quotes as Tim and Ziva didn't know whether to wince or giggle. "She brought you a free refill."

"Yeah... Liz, right? Gunnerson's Diner. Way back from Duet in your car, you had the busted arm. What's up?"

"Hey, we got a meal there on our way home the night of the Dam Rescue. Nice lady, good food," Tim put in enthusiastically.

"Yes, excellent!" Ziva added. "Very homely."

Tony waited patiently, Gibbs... not so much.

"Somebody tried to blow up her nice homely place this morning," Tony said grimly. "I came the short route today, didn't pass the place. Wish I had. Damn. Simon wants us to investigate."

NCISNCISNCIS

Liz Gunnerson was a decent woman. She was still, legally Sheila Elizabeth Gunnerson Cardoza, but only because long ago her husband had proved so difficult to track down she'd given up trying to have divorce papers served on him. The last time she'd seen him, before he'd returned to his ship all those years ago, she'd told him not to bother coming back, if she needed to let him know anything she'd contact him through the Navy. She wasn't going to finance his grandiose post-naval plans; he'd already spent just about everything she had, and she was tired of mean looking large guys coming to the door saying he owed _them_ money.

It wasn't so long before she couldn't even contact him through the Navy – they didn't know where he was either, but there was a jail cell waiting for him when they found him.

She moved out of the tiny apartment, dropped the Sheila and the Cardoza as she stepped through the door, and went out to Virginia to work for her Uncle Edgar in his modest diner. Now, sixteen years later, the eating place was the favourite of all the locals and most of the passing trade, and it belonged to her through sheer hard work. She employed a cheerful, skilled cook, _'ah... jus' call me Min', _he'd say, when people tried to pronounce his complex Vietnamese name. She'd offered him a partnership, to make sure she never lost him; _'ah... maybe one day... I'm not leavin' you, Liz.'_

Now Min sat hunched on a gurney in the car park of the diner, an ice-pack held to the back of his neck, swearing under his breath in Vietnamese, while a cop with a notebook wrote Tran...Tien... Minh very carefully. Cars pulled into the parking lot, drivers leaned out of windows to have Simon, the first person she'd called after the police, tell them, "Yes, we_ will _be open later on today." Even if the kitchen was still a crime scene they could still do drinks and snacks... no dishwasher, but she could get paper plates... Liz's mind raced as she assessed the damage. Nobody was going to close Gunnerson's, least of all a useless wastrel of an AWOL sailor...

NCISNCISNCIS

"Simon says the chef was hit over the back of his head when he went to unlock the place first thing in the morning. Some sort of incendiary device was put in the kitchen and the gas was turned on. Fortunately the chef came round in time to turn it off again and open the windows. He didn't see his attacker, but Liz is convinced it's her ex-husband. Who just happens to be a sailor who's been UE for the last eleven years. I didn't get a chance to ask why she thinks that."

Gibbs thought for a minute. "You better find out. Can't claim jurisdiction if we're not sure it is."

"No Gunnerson listed as UE by the navy in the last twenty years, Boss," Tim told him, and Tony grinned delightedly. They could have dismissed it out of hand.

"Perhaps that is not the name," Ziva said helpfully. "Many women who split up from... unsatisfactory husbands do not care to keep their married name."

"Mmm... OK, Gunnerson's not a common name," Tim started again.

"The device is probably still intact – we need any fingerprints from the local police. What?"

Gibbs had observed a rather mordant glance between the two younger agents.

"We were not impressed during our last dealings with them, Gibbs."

Tony chuckled darkly. "From what I heard, they _were_ impressed with you guys. Maybe we need -"

"Yeah, get gone."

"Hey, I can go down there?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes. " What I said, DiNozzo. Ya get the name of the man in charge? I'll let him know you're coming."

Tony grinned again. "You're starting the custody battle before I even get there, Boss?"

"Either it was her husband – our case, or it wasn't – their case. Find out."

"On it, Boss!" Tony was half-way to the elevator, when Gibbs yelled his name. "Yes, Boss?"

"Take McGee."

Ziva opened her mouth to say 'why not me', thought better of it and closed it again. _I was on the Seahawk, while Tim remained behind..._

Tim jumped up with a 'let out of school early' look on his face, grabbed his gun and badge and followed Tony so eagerly the SFA held a warning hand out as they entered the elevator. "OK, McKeen, I'm not going without you!"

Tim shook his head as they walked out to the agency sedan. "Why did he send me with you, not Ziva? D'you think it was because I didn't get to go to the carrier?"

Tony stopped and looked at him over the top of the vehicle. "No, McMissed Something. Go figure." Tim frowned as he got in the car. Tony urged, "I'll give you a clue, then. When did Gibbs tell me to go?"

"When... after Ziva said we weren't impressed with the locals."

"No-o-o... after_ I _said ?" He raised his eyebrows encouragingly as he started the engine.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Same chief as a year ago, and he'll have heard what happened then. He won't have forgotten you. You up for impressing him all over again?"

'Out of school early' was replaced on Tim's face by 'how about that'. "Yeah," he finally said in a pleased voice. "I'm up for that."

TBC

**AN: I watched the Olympic Closing Ceremony... bored to tears until they fired Eric Idle out of a cannon into the floor... then stayed up to finish this chapter. I'm not entirely happy, but it's nearly 3 am. **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: You may think Min's a bit of a caricature, but he's 'Pop' Ng, grandad of one of my piano students. When I said I'd put him in a story, he said I'd better make him the hero.**

I Thought You Were a Lady

Chapter 2

"Ziva, calm down!" A noise like an angry female hornet came from Tim's speaker. "No, I'm sure he didn't – no, I was there. That's very unpleasant, Ziva, but it's hardly Tony's fault. Nobody said anything like that – and if anyone was listening, they shouldn't have been, and they couldn't have -"

Tony held his hand out. "Let me talk to her, McDefender, clearly _I've _upset her." He slowed the car right down. "Ziva. _Ziva_!" The Mossad officer hadn't noticed the phone being switched, as she spat, as they say, feathers.

"Tony I will kill you! Do you know what they are saying after your stupid joke?"

"_No, Seriously!" The speaker was an evidence clerk, and she'd pulled her friend into a corridor, agog with excitement. Her sibilant whisper was actually loud enough to travel all the way down the deserted passageway. "Molly told me; she was walking by when he said it. Officer David is **pregnant.**"_

"_Oooh, so Agent DiNozzo has -"_

"_No-o-o-o... **Gibbs! **While DiNozzo was away!"_

"_What?"_

"_Molly heard Agent DiNozzo accusing his boss; apparently he'd promised to take care of her!"_

"_Wow, I don't think that was quite how he meant it!" They both giggled._

"_Apparently they'd been sending each other secret messages, right there in the bull pen – Agent DiNozzo said something about codes! A few minutes later, he told Agent McGee to go with him and stormed off to the elevator. He must be furious!"_

"_Gosh, yes... hey, if he's not with David any more, maybe Tony'd like to date me, I'd -"_

_A shadow fell across them; the tall, lean shadow of the new Director. They froze like the proverbial rabbits._

"_The pregnant person in question is apparently a horse," he said stiffly. "Officer David, on the other hand, is **not **pregnant , and if you insist on spreading scurrilous rumours, you'd be wise to spread them out of earshot of the subject." He glanced up the corridor to where the Israeli assassin leaned against the wall, trimming a broken nail with a throwing knife. The two clerks fled. Once they were certain they weren't being pursued by a dagger wielding fury, however, they stopped._

"_A horse?"_

"_That's a really rude thing to say, I'm surprised at Director Vance. So... who's the most horse-faced girl in the building? I thought DiNozzo only dated pretty girls..." A cool, lightly accented voice said from close behind them, "That is true..."_

Tony was trying to hold the laughter in. "Ziva, I'm sorry you were the butt of the scuttle," he said sincerely, "it's not nice, I know. We've all been there some time over something. But I didn't mention you, neither did Vance, nor did Gibbs. And no, you were there, you _know_ I didn't yell it all over the room. It was a private joke, that some foolish person who shouldn't have been listening got hold of. Ziva!" he said again, firmly. "Enough already with the paper clips...Look, I'd offer to deal with them, but I imagine you already have. Mmm? Well, there, then."

He handed Tim's phone back, solemnly. "Did she tell you the details?"

"She did," Tim nodded seriously.

"Shocking."

"Despicable."

They both erupted into peals of laughter at the same time.

"That..." Tim finally gasped, "was very... ungentlemanly, Tony. Shame on us."

Tony nodded angelically. "How could we." He took a deep, calming breath, and his face changed. He sighed. "We've both had worse said about us."

Tim winced. He remembered _rookie... careless... cop-killer... not up to the job..._

Tony was thinking_ serial killer...he bites them... could have got Sciuto killed..._

They exchanged rueful shrugs, and Tony floored the accelerator, just as the phone buzzed again. Tim winced, but Ziva had calmed down. "It was not Tony's fault," she announced without preamble. "Your search for the missing husband has brought up a name, Reynaldo, 'Ray' Cardoza. I am sure Ms. Gunnerson will tell you that much when you speak to her, but there is more. I have the date eleven years ago when he was first reported Unexplained Absence, and details of an incident six months before that when he was questioned, inconclusively by Metro PD about a bar brawl. I am running searches for the other names mentioned in the police report, and also tracking a copy of the Navy's report on the incident."

"That's good, Ziva. Do you have anything since the UE report?"

"Twice, not long afterwards, he was almost caught, but both times he had gone before the MPs got there. He seems to have been one foot ahead, or he was tipped off."

"Er... one step, Ziva. Anything more?"

"Not yet, but although the searches are still running, I do not know what will turn up. The Navy is not actively pursuing the case any longer, merely watching. By now, they have many more important fish to shoot." Tim's silence put her back up. "In a barrel... that is right, is it not?" She sighed in exasperation. "I do not know how Americans manage to communicate at all! Well... if there is any other place I can look, let me know. I will keep you up to date."

"Thanks, Ziva. It's fish to fry, but honestly, I like your version better."

When he'd disconnected he grinned at Tony. "Didn't you buy her a book of American idioms?"

"I did, and Ducky got her a book of English ones..._and _Scottish ones. Found her giggling over that a couple of times. I even bought a book of Jewish Momma sayings, to see if I could get some wrong so she could have a go at _me_ -"

"You did that?"

"Sure, why not? Anyway, they were really funny and way too wise to mess with."

"Like?"

"Well... 'if you're bashful you'll never have children'."

"OK, pithy, wise, but not particularly funny."

Tony laughed. "Try this one then. 'A Jewish mother doesn't acknowledge the viability of her foetus until it's graduated from medical school.'"

"Like it," Tim agreed. "Mind you, maybe not a good idea -"

"To tell family jokes to Ziva." They both went quiet again. She'd probably be fine, Tony thought; he, with all his own mommy issues could still laugh at such things, but he thought it might be better to be over-sensitive than crass. Damn. All their attempts to be cheerful were going down like lead baboons, as Zi would say.

Soon afterwards, they pulled into the parking lot, and Tony remembered a small, tow-headed boy running after a blow-away map, a boy who was seven inches taller now and ten going on thirty... as he saw Simon standing on the terrace talking to Liz. As well as various squad cars there was a big black vehicle similar to their own, which they both matched up to the senior cop-looking guy who stood at the foot of the steps as two of his men came down them from the front door.

There was also an ambulance, and a small, wiry Asian man with a lined face and white hair, wearing a chef's white jacket and checked pants, sitting on a gurney. He was holding an icepack to his neck, and looking put out. A cop was writing in his notebook as a paramedic lifted the pack to check the state of the bruising underneath it.

"Min!" Tony exclaimed. "Nobody said he'd been hurt!" He nodded over towards the senior policeman. "Go get 'im, McNegotiator." He deliberately didn't watch Tim to see how he got on; he wasn't going to say out loud 'I trust you, Probie', he hoped he didn't have to, but he didn't want him to think he _didn't_. Liz and Simon had spotted him, but he gave them a wave and ran over to the chef first.

"Min! Hey, man, are you OK?"

"Ha! OK? That _len lut_ idiot hit me with own wok, you know that? Where you when a friend need you?"

Tony laughed. "I'm here now, Min." He turned to the EMT, who was trying to suppress a smile. "He's gonna be all right, right?"

The young man smiled. "No concussion... nothing bruised but his temper." His partner brought a chair down from the terrace, and Min hopped off the gurney to sit on it, as Tony said airily, "Oh, that's normal, believe me."

"Ah – young whipper-snapper – how you know what I got bruised, eh? You land on ass, see how you feel, you hit yourself over head with wok, see -"

"You're fine, Min. Now let the nice medics take their ambulance away... they're scaring off customers."

"Scaring? What you mean, scaring? You think my food poison people? You think -" The two grinning EMTs loaded up their gurney and went off with a wave in the middle of Min's tirade. As soon as they'd gone he jumped to his feet.

"Wait a minute, Min, shouldn't you be resting up for a bit?"

"You take forty-eight minutes getting here, I rest. Why you don't drive like your boss, eh?"

Liz and Simon came over; neither of them was smiling. "Hi, Tony." Liz hugged him. "Thanks for coming – and Tim. Min, it's all very fine to make a joke of all this -"

"Who's joking?" Min was enjoying being a curmudgeon; he took it seriously.

"But you could have been hurt. And I don't think the police believe that I know who's behind it."

"Tell me, then," Tony urged.

Liz was terse. Things were happening just like they'd done so many years ago, before she'd got her husband out of her life, for good as she'd thought. There'd been silent phone calls; intimidating ones saying things like _'where is he? You're going to tell us sooner or later'. _Cars with darkened windows had sat out in the parking lot for an hour at a time, and left, the first one of its own volition, the second when she'd gone storming out there. Subsequent times were more worrying; as soon as she called the police, they'd go.

"While you were dialling? Or a few minutes later?"

"Almost the minute I picked up the phone."

"That's good... in a way. They're reading your signal, not being tipped off. If there'd been someone in dispatch helping them that would have meant bent cop – or police employee. Nobody wants that."

"But if there _were_, and we'd caught them they could maybe have told us something," Simon said thoughtfully.

"If they knew anything. Someone easy to catch would have to be getting their instructions anonymously."

Simon grimaced. "So much for Special Agent Townley."

"Hey... you think like an investigator. Even Gibbs said so."

"No kidding?"

"As surely as I sit here in this canoe. Probably why you're a good journalist." Liz and Min both looked from one man to the other as the banter threatened to wind up, but it was interrupted by Tim's approach. Tony had been well aware of the police vehicles leaving, one by one, and Tim's handshake with the senior guy, and he turned with a grin. "So, McDiplomat -" he registered the look of suppressed glee on his friend's face - "or maybe I should say McDevious... our case, then. How did you do it?" The McGee glee racked up several notches, and Tony groaned. "Should I be asking?"

"Well, first of all, one of the uniforms was at the filling station stand-off, and recognised me. His boss said 'oh, _that _NCIS'. Then I got a call from Ziva;" he looked apologetically at Liz. "Ray Cardoza was questioned about absconding from a gas station without paying, but they couldn't prove he was driving the vehicle, so he was never actually arrested. This was three weeks ago, in Greensboro, Ms. Gunnerson, so he was not so far away then. Apparently, if they'd seen the flag-up from the Navy, they'd have kept him, but they didn't until it was too late."

"And?" Tony asked, realising that there was nothing there to make the Probie so pleased with himself. There had to be more; he braced himself.

"And... the chief asked me who you were, and I said 'that's my Senior Field Agent'. He thought I meant _my _Senior Field Agent, and he said I must be good to have my own team so young... and I... didn't discourage him from thinking like that." He allowed himself to revel in the thunderstruck look on Tony's face. It wasn't often he could out-bamboozle the arch-bamboozler of NCIS. "Next thing I know is, he's offering me jurisdiction, with just the proviso that if it turns out not to be Navy we'll hand it back with everything we've got. I was very calm... like I was doing him a _great_ favour. I didn't bite his hand off."

Tony was silent for so long, for him, that Tim began to fear an explosion; until the older man's mouth began to twitch in spite of himself. "Our master has taught you well, young padawan," he said finally, shaking his head.

"Don't think I learned that from the Boss, Tony... it's the sort of thing you'd have done across _him._"

"Hoist with my own petard, as Ducky would say," Tony agreed. "Nice work, McEffrontery..." He shook his head again, this time as if to clear it. Back to business. "So, what have we got... Let's go inside, can we grab a coffee? Good... talk it through, let Gibbs know, process the scene and see if we can give Min his kitchen back. 'Fraid your wok's going to be evidence, though, Min."

"Ha. You think I can't use frying pan?"

Three hours later, the processing done, Tony, Tim and Simon sat around a table trying to look inconspicuous as Liz , Min, and the two young waitresses on duty that evening returned the diner to its normal, busy running. The agents took the opportunity to grab a hasty bite to eat before setting off back to DC to take the evidence they had to Abby's lab.

Some things puzzled them; the fact that Min (happily) hadn't been hit harder was one; he'd been able to turn the gas off almost immediately. The incendiary device also seemed rather hit and miss; it hadn't attempted to ignite, and they needed to know why. Abby would be able to tell them its chemical composition.

They were worried about Liz; she'd had no contact with, or even sighting of her estranged husband, but the news from Ziva had only convinced her more that he was around somewhere. "And whoever these guys are, they think she knows, or soon will, so they're planning to get to him through her," Simon said anxiously. "I don't know how we can protect her twenty-four seven."

Tony nodded thoughtfully. "We'll think of something... better get going, bring the Boss up to date a bit more thoroughly."

Simon nodded. "Mmm. Look, before you go, I need to tell you something else I was saving for another day. I was going to send you all formal invites, but unless we can fix this it might all go pear-shaped anyway... Mary and I were planning to get married, twentieth of next month. We were even planning a couple of days honeymoon – Adam was going to stay with Liz. He was looking forward to being let loose in the kitchen with Min. I'd still like you all to come – if it happens then. Which it won't unless we're done with this, because apart from running the paper, I'll need to be looking out for Liz."

"Not on your own." Tony was firm on that. "Like I said, we'll think of something."

Simon walked out to the agency car with them, pausing to reach into his own Denali as they went. "Here," he said with a smile, "One each for the team." He handed them four copies of a book; a book with a picture on the dust jacket of the water foaming down the sluice on New Dam, and the title 'Four Dams: the fight to save a town.' To be released next Saturday; predicted to be a local best-seller. You're all in there."

"You wrote it," Tony said delightedly. "You said you would... We'll be famous, McStar! Of course you already are -"

Tim brought him back to earth. "I've already arranged with the local police to step up patrols in the area," he reassured the former Marine, to the accompaniment of a lot of face-pulling from Tony. "And we'll get a panic button installed under the counter as quickly as we can. I've checked out the diner's surveillance equipment and security lights, they're all good, and I've impressed on all the staff the importance of not being here alone."

"BOLOs are out for Cardoza, with description," Tony added, "And the Navy's going to take an active part in locating him. You could put a report in the News, alert everyone in the area. Now we have to see what we can learn from the intel Ziva's gathered on his previous associates."

"Damn." Tim was looking at the screen of his phone. "The cars that sat out there for hours... Liz had the sense to write the numbers down; but they were rentals, every one of them. We'll talk to the hire firms first thing in the morning, but that's probably a dead end."

Tony clapped him on the shoulder as they stood up. "Fear not, McHe'smySFA, you'll come up with something now you've been promoted."

"You'll never let me live that down, will you?"

"_I _won't – Probie, _you'll_ never let _me_ live it down. Hey, it was worth it."

Tim rolled his eyes, knowing that however proud of him Tony might be, he was still capable of extracting a terrible revenge; he'd be on his guard. He grinned. Like Tony said, it was worth it.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Sincere apologies for the long delay – I think it's very bad manners to not post anything for more than a week, I can only plead the most hectic spell of RL I've encountered in months. And tonight, when I finally thought my head was clear, I'd enough coffee to keep me going, and coherent ideas to boot – I skyped with my daughter for almost 2 hours, so here it is, wee small hours again.**

I Thought You Were a Lady

Chapter 3

"_Well, I still think it's Agent Gibbs," a voice in the corner of the break room hissed. A determined gossip never gives up after all. _

"_No, it isn't," her friend insisted. "Tina went past a few moments after Molly, and she said that Agent DiNozzo told the **Director **that they didn't know who the father was. But it's got to be Officer David, whatever he says, cuz we can't find anything out about anyone else DiNozzo's been seeing. And anyway, I don't think he's seeing the girl any more, he's seeing lots of other women – Tina said he told the team it was costing him a fortune in dates!"_

"_No, it's not Officer David." Molly the Mole of the Mail Room dropped into the chair beside them, scraping the legs along the floor and making the two evidence clerks wince. "Someone sent Agent DiNozzo some photos, and David didn't react to either of them, although she said they were both very handsome. And DiNozzo said one of them was the father, but they wouldn't know which until the baby arrived, but then it'd be clear." She preened at being the one to impart such delicious new information._

"_Oh wow," the determined gossip breathed delightedly. "That must mean they're of different ethnic groups... I wish we knew who the girl was though!"_

"_There's more," Molly said gleefully. "Agent DiNozzo's really angry, because I heard him saying he's going to make him** pay!**"_

NCISNCISNCIS

After originally intending to return to DC straight away, Tony had borrowed Liz's truck and gone to talk to the car hire firm in Charlottesville, but they could tell him nothing. If they suspected driving licenses were fake, they didn't ask. "We don't. Staff shouldn't have to take the sort of abuse they get if they voice their suspicions. All our vehicles are fitted with trackers; we can retrieve them – and we'd rather have our staff safe."

They'd given him all they could, including vague descriptions of the men, but it wasn't much. Tim meanwhile had dashed into Culpepper and bought a few things, and Liz now had the panic button he'd promised her. He also brought her back an unregistered cell phone, and arranged with his new friends at the local police headquarters to have one number that she could call with it if one of the mysterious vehicles turned up in the parking lot.

"They won't recognise either number if they're monitoring them," he'd explained, "they'll just think it's a customer calling home, so they won't be spooked into leaving before the police get here. Let's see if we can't catch a fly, and get some answers from it."

"I foresee a lot of to-ing and fro-ing between here and Virginia," Tim concluded ruefully, as he filled the Boss and Ziva in on the events in Virginia.

They'd got back late, and Gibbs had told them to go straight home and get some sleep, and report first thing in the morning, so they did so over the usual breakfast out of paper sacks..

Tony said in a dramatic, accusing tone, "So, _Boss,_ your fans in the local PD will arrest the guys if you ask them to? And deliver them to us? I'm so sorry, to _you_?"

Tim grinned. "They'll hold anyone they pick up until we can collect them, Tony. I couldn't talk them into doing our transport for us."

"Ah. Like you said, a lot of back and forth. Hey... maybe I can drop in to see Doris?"

Gibbs just grimaced. He wasn't entirely pleased with what he'd heard, but really needed to talk to his SFA alone about it.

The mail cart was trundled by, and a stiff A4 envelope appeared on Tony's desk. Curious, he picked it up, then grinned. The writing was Sally Frame's. Tony extracted two beautiful glossy photos, and studied them, and the accompanying note, with a broad smile. Ziva immediately came to his elbow, and he made no attempt to stop her.

"My," she said approvingly, "they are both very handsome."

Tim looked curious, and so did Gibbs, so Tony spread the photos on the Boss's desk and beckoned McGee over as well. "They are," the young agent agreed. "They're very different looking."

"Very," Tony said. "One of them's the father. We won't know which until Junior arrives, but I'd say it'll be pretty obvious then." He shot a glance towards the elevator, where Molly from the mail room had stopped her cart and was fussing with something, and indicated Sally's letter. "I can make the father pay." Molly seemed to feel that she couldn't stand there fiddling any longer without being made; she had no idea she'd been sussed already. She hurried away, and Tony, Tim and Ziva exchanged wicked grins.

"Pay?" Gibbs asked, amiably for him. He was sitting down, and couldn't see the mail trolley from where he was, although none of the other three would have bet on him not knowing what was going on.

"Well, yeah. If you want the services of a stallion, you have to pay a stud fee, obviously. But if that stallion is unsupervised, and puts your mare in foal without your permission, if she needs veterinary care, you can claim the fees from the owner. Sally and Amos both feel she'll be fine... but as you can see, I'll know who to bill!"

Ziva picked the photos up again, although she was still looking towards the elevator.

"It's OK, she's gone," Tim told her.

"Gone?" Gibbs was beginning to feel like a parrot.

"Molly the Mole. Don't tell me you haven't heard the gossip, Boss."

"Oh, I've heard, DiNozzo."

"Well, since Ziva got the sticky end of it before, seems only fair that she should start some this time."

Gibbs didn't reply, simply raised his eyes to heaven as Ziva studied the photos again.

The two studs Sally had mailed the pictures of were indeed different; Calumet was a tall, tobiano patterned American Saddlebred, bright bay and white, with a black mane and tail that reached to the ground. Blacktown Boxer was not so tall, but muscular and powerful, a perfect example of the Quarter Horse. He was dark chestnut, like Doris, but had a mane and tail of burnished bronze, one white sock, and a white star on his forehead.

"They are both valuable animals, yes? And Doris is a Morgan?"

"Again, pure-bred. Amos didn't know that when he bought her, just liked the look of her. He knew by the time he sold her to me, he'd traced her back; wouldn't accept more than he paid though – sort of guy he is."

Ziva nodded. "The foal will be the best of two good breeds. It will be valuable, Tony."

"I guess. Don't tell Adam though, or he won't accept."

"Accept?" Now it was Ziva's turn to echo Tony's words.

"Yeah. Don't say anything, guys... all being well, I'm going to give him the foal as soon as the time's right. What would I do with two horses?"

They were all silent – it seemed Tony could still surprise them. In the end, Gibbs said "You can't ride two at once... now, Miz Gunnerson?"

"There is some physical evidence from the bar brawl," Ziva said. "Although NCIS was informed, the case was Metro's, and Cardoza was dealt with by his CO. Metro have agreed to let us have what they still keep, I have offered to collect it personally."

"Nice work. Yeah, go."

"I have a long list of Cardoza's associates, Boss; I'm running searches on all of them. Abby's running the physical evidence in the hope there's a link to one of them, and I've a call booked in MTAC in -" he glanced at his watch - "two minutes, to speak with his CO from the time he disappeared, and a PO who served in two different ships with him. They were both in armaments, and he's the only one I can find who might have known him well enough to give us any insight."

Gibbs nodded approvingly, and looked towards the stairs. As soon as McGee had disappeared, Tony was in front of the Boss's desk. "What's bugging you?"

The Marine threw down his pen and leaned back in his chair. "How d'you think this promotion of McGee's is goin' to play out?"

"And why didn't I put a stop to it?"

"Not what I asked. You wouldn't rat him out... but it can't go on."

"I know, Boss. I don't know if he's thought what Madison PD's going to collectively think when they find out they've been played... but he thought it was a good idea at the time, and not from the point of view of putting one over on me – and it got results. Short-term. I thought of keeping up the charade – whatever he may think, I know I tease him on the team, but I didn't want to embarrass him in front of the locals." He sighed. "The thing is, I was kind of happy that he'd used his initiative... but it could do more harm than good."

"So what d'you think the answer is?"

"For him to tell them the truth... but if I tell him that he'll think it's just me not liking the fact that he stuck one past me – and it's not, Boss. I was cool with it."

"Ya want me to talk to him?"

Tony pursed his lips. "DiNozzos are not indecisive... I dunno... no, Boss, I let him do it, it's down to me to fix it."

Gibbs frowned. "Ya didn't _let_ him do it. And I see why ya _did_ let him get away with it. Kinda wish I'd seen your face..."

"_Boss_!"

"But yeah, needs fixin'."

Tony was about to say 'on it, Boss', when his desk phone rang. "DiNozzo... they have? Anyone you recognise? No, just go on as normal, don't endanger yourselves, we'll take care of it. Can you copy the driver's licence without arousing suspicion? You did? Yeah, it's coming through now... and...hey, the documents – thanks for that. No, it's a big help, really. Thanks."

He put the phone down, and Gibbs said,"Someone just hired a car with blacked out windows."

"Yeah, Boss, two men, and they suspected the licence was fake, so as soon as they'd gone, they called me. Like McGee said, to-ing and fro-ing."

"Go pick them up... take McGee again. I'll check what you were sent against what's come up so far in the searches. You can alert the locals on your way. "

"They'll already know, Boss. The hire firm know to call them once they've called us; to make sure someone's there to protect Liz." He chuckled. "Probie left them instructions to stay out of sight unless they were needed – not to go in with lights and sirens like last time..." he saw Gibbs' raised eyebrow. "I got it, Boss. It'll be fixed." He puled his cell from his pocket, and the ringtone jangled just as he was about to press speed dial. "Yeah, McGee? Yeah, I know, they called us. Your friends called you? No, it's fine. You ready to go?"

"Right here," Tim called, as he ran down the stairs from the mezzanine, and they left in a hurry.

Tony rang Liz to warn her; "Carry on as normal, don't ring the police, they know already. I'll call Simon and ask him to keep you company until we get there." After that, he concentrated on his driving; he knew that the two men in the hire car could get there before them unless they hurried and the bad guys didn't, but he also knew that this was the opportunity he needed to have the conversation with Tim that he didn't _want_ to have. He lost count of the number of times he took a deep breath and then let it out again and concentrated on the road.

Tim said suddenly, "I 'fessed up."

The car lurched a little as Tony's foot twitched on the gas pedal. "You did? You did. I should have known... here's me been worrying about how to tell you you should. When? What did they say?"

Tim looked sheepish. "Remember I got back from Culpepper before you got back from Charlottesville? I'd been thinking all the way that although it had been a kind of neat idea, it was still a slight exaggeration -" Tony let out a bark of laughter - "OK, a barefaced lie, and it couldn't stay like that. They'd think they'd been played for fools; manipulated – bad idea. So I came straight out and told Inspector Bale as soon as I saw him. Said it was a misunderstanding , but although it was nice to outrank you for once, I couldn't keep it up. He laughed, and said..." he went a bit pink.

"And said?"

"He said it was a smart way of getting things done, and he'd heard about what I did at the gas station siege, and he liked my nerve."

"Well... that's all good, then. You really have made a friend..." He held up a finger and said sententiously, "A wise decision; honesty is the best policy, young Tim -" and then it struck him. "Wait a minute...You told him _yesterday_? And you're only just telling me now?"

"Um... yes."

"You enjoyed your promotion _that_ much?"

Tim threw caution to the wind. "Oh, yeah," he said with a grin. Then it was his turn to be whacked by an unwelcome thought. "Ah... You wanted to tell me. You knew I'd done the wrong thing."

Tony decided to leave Gibbs out of it; at least for now – it wouldn't help Tim to know the Boss had disapproved too. "Well, not wrong, exactly... It was never going to be practical, even though it was fun. For you, that is! You were right that if they'd found out they'd been manipulated – and all it would have taken was an innocent phone call to the Yard – that would have been the end of any co-operation with us. Hey, I should have realised that _you'd_ realised."

"Supervisory Special Agent McGee... it was great while it lasted," Tim said soulfully, and this time Tony's laugh was easy and genuine.

"You'll be Director one day, McGibbs," he said cheerfully. "SSA will seem pretty old-hat then. Now, use that Supervisory McBrain of yours to ring Liz and see if she's got a visitor yet."

"We're good then?"

"Aren't we always? Now, do we take this oh-so-easily recognisable fedmobile behind the building to the delivery entrance, or do we have to leave it up the road?"

Liz answered at once, sounding a bit nervous. "No, Tim, they're not here yet – do you really think they'll come?" Tony drove the last five hundred yards really fast, not wanting to appear at the same moment that the bad guys came from the other direction, and screeched to a halt out of sight between the kitchen door and the wheelie bins. Min opened the door for them, then locked it behind them. "You hurry." He picked up a cleaver in one hand and a long meat skewer in the other. "I'm ready, you bet."

"Mn, you stay in the kitchen if things happen, and guard that back door. You might just find all the customers in there with you. You take care of them."

They put their badges and guns in their jacket pockets, hid their holsters, and sat at a window table in their shirt-sleeves, drinking coffee like any pair of travellers, while Simon sat at another table, ostensibly engrossed in his lap-top, ready to steer the other customers into the kitchen if necessary. Tim reported that Inspector Bale's men were ready to drive up and block the entrance to the parking lot as soon as they were called. They waited.

They were almost taken by surprise, as Gibbs called to say they had an ID on the driver. Just as he was saying the name, and revealing a long history of small time activity, the dark GMC swung into the lot. "They're here, Boss, gotta go," Tony said, and disconnected hastily.

He and Tim put plan A into action; the intimidating visitors had never attempted to enter the restaurant before, and they weren't going to get the chance to change their methods now. Tony sauntered towards Simon's Denali as if it were his own; on the other side of the lot, Tim was heading for another car, idly dangling a key fob from his fingers. He looked up the road, and tossed the keys up in the air and caught them again, and the two police cars that had crept out of hiding as soon as the GMC was in the car park, purred quietly forward to block the entrance.

This clearly alarmed the driver, as he threw the door open and jumped out, only to be met by Tim's Sig aimed between his eyes. "Don't move, Mr. Prater, if that's your real name." Mr Prater didn't move. On the other side of the SUV his passenger, faced with Tony's gun, raised his hands slowly. The rear door on the same side flew open, and Tony had to jump for it to avoid being flattened, and his prisoner decided to run, heading in the opposite direction from the woman who emerged from the back of the vehicle.

Damn; nobody had mentioned a third person. Tim took the time to cuff the driver to his steering wheel, which gave the wiry, long-legged man a head start, but the agent set off at an angle to head him off. Tony caught up with the woman in three long strides, only to have her swing her shoulder bag at him by its long strap. The way it whistled through the air he wondered if it had a brick in it; when it caught his upper arm slightly he _knew_ it had. She swung it again, and he caught the strap, wrenched it out of her hand, and swung it at her knees. She went down in a heap, swearing in a most unladylike manner.

Tony hauled her to her feet and cuffed her. She was latino, young, late teens, he thought. "Hey, does your mother know you use language like that?" That simply provoked another mouthful.

Tim, breathing hard, and with a slight bruise on his right cheek, brought his prisoner back, assisted by Simon, who'd dashed out as soon as he'd seen what was going down, and in spite of Tony's lecture about unarmed civilians. Up on the terrace diners were standing, having come out of the cafe to take photos of the exciting action.

Liz came hesitantly down the steps. "Have you seen any of these people before, Ms Gunnerson?" Tony asked formally, wondering if any of them had actually visited the diner before to gather information.

Liz looked first at the two men. She frowned at the driver. "Maybe... weeks ago, though, not recently." There was no sign of recognition of the wiry man, but when she looked at the girl, she went a bit pale. "I... no, it can't be..."

"Liz? What is it?"

"She... this child... she looks like Ray."

"I should do," the girl snapped. "I'm Angelica Cardoza, his daughter. And I want to know where the bastard is."

TBC

**AN: Only read through once, apologies for any missed typos.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Late a gain... I'm going to stop making excuses, and simply apologise.**

I Thought You Were a Lady

Chapter 4

"You want me down there right away?"

"_Yeah, Boss, and Ziva. We figure it'll all be happening down here, whatever 'it' is – and we think it's a lot, from what we've learned so far." _

Gibbs could hear the quote marks in Tony's voice. "Ya think it's imminent? "

"_Difficult to say... but it won't be long. He'll come here sooner rather than later, and when he does, there could be some very dangerous people in the picture."_

"Sounds like it. Is Liz OK?"

"_She's nervous, Boss –"_

"Nervous, huh?" The taciturn Marine couldn't help that slipping out, it was a DiNozzo understatement of gold star standard – the list of unpleasant names their investigation had pulled up would make anyone reading it way more than nervous.

"_You know Liz, though. And Min. They won't be frightened off. I'll fill you in on the details when you get here. One thing you should know – we've let the local police in on it."_

"Thought you weren't gonna do that." He was pleased that Tony had taken the initiative, but surprised nonetheless.

"_It's getting bigger by the minute – we'd need another team, or some TADs, and you know we don't play nicely... and they've been really helpful letting us use their men, and facilities... there could be these very nasty people loose all over their territory – and we've revised – well, McGee's revised – his opinion of them upwards. We needed somewhere to keep our prisoners, and you just wait until you meet the lovely Angelica –"_

"_Angelica? _You said – "

"_She's no angel? Think I've changed my mind on that one, Boss. Need to know more, but I got a feeling... look, just get here soon, OK?"_

"On the way."

Molly the Mole scurried away as Gibbs and Ziva picked up their guns and headed for the elevator.

NCISNCISNCIS

"You've got that wrong," the determined gossip said flatly. "It can't be happening so soon."

"But Agent Gibbs asked if it was _imminent_," Molly said, round eyed. "He asked if he should go there. And the girl's name is Liz."

"Well, it can't be anyone here, then," the sidekick said. "There's nobody called Liz works in this building."

"Well, whoever she is, she's feeling nervous," Molly said. "And I think she knows she's having a girl, cuz Agent Gibbs said he thought 'he wasn't going to do that' – and I'm sure he was talking to Agent DiNozzo. Then he said 'Angelica', as if he didn't like it so much, so I think they've found out what sex the baby is, and they've named her."

"But why would Agent DiNozzo do that if he's not the father, and they don't know who the father is? It doesn't make sense."

The determined gossip snorted. "I still say it's too soon. I think you've got it all wrong, Molly."

"No, I haven't!"

The other girl pushed back her chair, and her friend followed suit. "In fact, I think you've made it all up. You're a terrible gossip!" In a severe case of self-righteousness, the kettle who'd just called the pot black swept out of the break room, her shadow behind her, leaving Molly with her mouth open.

NCISNCISNCIS

Simon looked at Tony accusingly."You didn't tell him you'd co-opted me."

His friend looked at him unapologetically. "Not sure that I have. You're a _civilian_."

"I can take care of myself. You know that."

"Never knew a _civilian_ better able to... but one it's against our rules, and two, not nearly so important of course, what's your son – or your fiance – going to say if I break you?"

"It wasn't me who got – " Simon shut up suddenly. It wasn't that Tony didn't need reminding of the last scrape they'd shared; he simply had more urgent things to do than be arguing with someone who – he was perfectly right – didn't actually have any official place in all this. Besides, Simon thought with a sudden frisson of anxiety, there'd been something different and brittle about Tony's mood ever since he'd come back from the interview room ten minutes ago.

The senior agent was fighting a wild urge to just run out of the place, go and saddle Doris up, and head for the mountains. "Campfire," he said suddenly, and jumped up from his chair. Tim looked up from his computer and raised a questioning eyebrow, then said something quietly to Inspector Bale. The tall, amiable man with the thinning dark hair pushed his chair back as the other three men pulled theirs over to the table where he sat. "We've not all four compared notes yet," Tony went on. "And I've just got some more info back from Abby, who got it from a friend on Wall Street... I'll save it for a minute. Let's have our ducks in a row by the time Gibbs and Ziva get here, cuz then we'll be needing to decide what to _do. _Nick, you interviewed Prater, d'you want to start?"

The Inspector grinned. "Mr. Kevin Prater. Five aliases – that we know of – original name Kevin Pepper, of Spokane. Now resides in Jacksonville. Hired by a man he knows only as 'Clive', to intimidate Miz Gunnerson by making threatening phone-calls, and parking mysterious vehicles in her lot, doesn't know anything else. How was he paid? Money direct into his account; Tim's set up a program to find out where it came from." He raised his eyebrows, but Tim shook his head.

"Nothing yet."

Nick Bale went on, "What did Clive look like? Never met him, he always phones. Didn't believe he was serious until a payment in advance appeared in his bank account; he was a bit intimidated himself that Clive could get his hands on the details. I asked him if he'd have gone further with the frightening if he'd been told to; he said you bet, _he'd_ have been too scared not to. I asked him how they'd taken up with Cardoza's daughter, he said 'who's Cardoza'. He claimed he didn't know who Liz Gunnerson was or why he had to scare her, and that the kid had asked them if they were going towards DC."

Tony nodded. "Not true. Tell you in a minute. Sorry, go on... I know you did some hunting after that, but let's talk about his pal next."

He looked over at Tim, who nodded thoughtfully. "Did he tell you they've been here twice today? He was the guy who set the incendiary device. His name's Davey Wentzler, and he was told to pick the device up from a locker at the bus station in Culpepper. Clive again. Apparently all the time Kevin was 'bitching about having a freaking fire-starter in the trunk of his car' – and at one point he had to brake hard and they were nearly laying eggs, but the thing didn't go off... The oddest instruction was not to hit the chef too hard – Clive knew what time he'd be there – and only to turn one gas tap on. Seems it wasn't a serious attempt to burn the place, just some more intimidation."

"That's one of the things I just heard from Abby," Tony told him. "The device was faulty. As in, it had been built that way. You're right. Just another threat."

"I also asked him about Angelica Cardoza, he said she was just a hitch-hiker. We really expected not to get much of use from those two," Tim added, "but a search for their known associates has brought up a few names that tie in with the list of Cardoza's, up to the last information we have on him. And remember the gas station he allegedly drove away from without paying? The camera didn't show him clearly enough, but it _did_ get a shot of his passenger. I got the tape sent to Abby, and she came up with a facial recognition hit."

He turned his laptop towards the other three men. First the screen showed a car standing at a gas pump; a man got out of the passenger door and walked away towards another vehicle, and the first one drove away. Then it showed Abby's program running, and finally a mugshot. "Mace Croft, minor fixer... works for Jack Burns."

"Woo," from Nick Bale. "Who?" from Simon. Tony just frowned.

"Not anyone you'd want to mix with," the Inspector said. "Teflon coated, you know? Nothing sticks, but there's plenty there. Big businessman, property, stock market, very above board... uses blackmail, torture, threats, kidnap, murder... we know he does, totally cold blooded, loves to have power over others... and nobody who's ever been_ in _his power and lived to tell the tale will ever say a word against him."

Tony frowned again. "Si, get that crusading light of battle out of your eyes... he is _not_ your next target. You try to investigate him, your offices will be toast by next morning. Every agency and force on the Eastern Seaboard is after him, and we'll get him in the end, but _not_ until it's foolproof. Abby's Wall Street contact reports there's lots of rumour going on about some deal he's hoping to pull off, but nobody can find out what it is." He leaned back in his chair. "And guess what." He was clearly about to deliver a doozy, but his tone was hard and flat, not gleeful, as Tim would have expected. "That child in there," he jerked a thumb towards the holding cells, "her mother, Marguerite Bresson, is Jack Burns Personal Assistant."

After a moment of rather stunned silence, Tim said sharply, "When were you going to tell us that?" He regretted it right away; his SFA looked somehow intense, and rattled.

Tony sighed. "I just did, Tim," he said mildly. "I didn't want to say it until we'd talked about everything else, because now we're not going to think of _anything _else." He paused. "I was so not looking forward to interviewing her," he said quietly. "I wondered how I could make one of you take her on instead, but I'm not _that_ sneaky. Maybe it was a good thing I did it... I thought I was going to get a young wannabee criminal, who knew nothing, but wanted to show how mature, and streetwise and tough she was by the size of her mouth. It's not what I got."

NCISNCISNCIS

"_So... Angelica... why's your father a bastard, and why are you looking for him?"_

_She glared at him. "You got any cigarettes? They took my bag. I want a damn smoke." _

"_No, no cigarettes." He studied her, and she studied him back just as blatantly. She was scruffily well dressed; he wondered what she'd done to afford her F.A.M. Jeans, and the off-one-shoulder grey Dolce & Gabbana top. The white vampire streak in her well cut dark hair had been put there by an expert, her thong sandals were tiny wisps of Spanish leather, and the shoulder bag she'd hit him with was Louis Vuiton._

"_Want a photo?" she asked acidly._

"_We've already done that. And the prints. You're under arrest for assault on a Federal Agent; that'll do for now. We're looking into your background, seeing if you've got a record, that sort of thing -" she snorted, which was an interesting reaction, but said nothing - "That means you haven't , I take it... so I'm kinda interested in why you're in a car with two known offenders, intimidating an innocent woman who's nothing to you and never hurt you. Not charged you with that, yet. What **were** you doing?"_

_She shrugged. "I didn't know what they were doing there. Wanted to find my father. They said they knew where he was."_

"_How did they know? And how did you know them?"_

"_They didn't say. And I didn't. Kev came up to me outside college and said he knew I was looking for my father and he knew how to find him."_

"_And you got into a car with two guys you didn't know, to go you didn't know where..."_

"_I can take care of myself."_

_Tony rubbed the top of his arm theatrically. "Yeah."_

"_I didn't know you were a Fed." She was indignant, and accusing. How dare he be a fed and not have it written all over him. Actually, he'd always thought he did – except when he didn't want it to show, of course._

_He leaned across the table and got in her face. "You didn't ask," he said sweetly. He drew back again, as a flicker of uncertainty crossed her face._

"_Screw that," she said, "You could have been freaking anybody." She added a few more adjectives, watching for a reaction. Neither Tony nor the female officer sitting silently at the end of the table looked anything different. _

"_Yeah, sure," he said after a while. "OK, so they said they knew where your father was. Why d'you want to find him, if he's a bastard?" It was the sort of question he'd asked himself many times over the years... why d'you still bother with him when you're so far down the list of his priorities? Stop it._

_She looked at him oddly, and he mentally berated himself for letting his guard down. "I'm a bastard too," she said in the end, and to Tony, it didn't sound as inconsequential as she intended. _

"_Literally or figuratively?"_

"_Literally. He and my Mom never got married. Could never figure out why she went ahead and had me. Like I said, I'm a bastard. Hey, maybe you are, too."_

"_Maybe... figuratively. What about your father?"_

_She laughed. "You don't bloody give up, do you. You don't know a damn thing."_

"_Well, no," Tony said blandly. "That's why I'm asking."_

_Her defensiveness wavered for a moment, and she gave a tiny laugh."Well... why are **you** interested in my Dad?" Tony registered the change from father to dad, and wondered just how many layers there were to peel back here. He thought of his own father. Did he have the right to go digging at this kid who wasn't as in command as she wanted him to think? Well, it was necessary, but he could only do it if he was up front with her. _

"_OK, I'll tell you. The you tell me. Deal?"_

"_Maybe."_

_So he explained, and her eyes grew wide. "So that woman... who recognised me... she's my Dad's wife?"_

"_Yes."_

"_And she hasn't seen him for sixteen years?"_

"_That's right."_

"_I saw him a week ago," Angelica said. "He sees me when he can... he likes to see me, which is more than can be said for Mom... he called my cell phone – he never calls on the house phone, Mom'd go apeshit. He said he was in trouble... needed my help... so I met him. In a diner. I took him some money... Mom never checks how I spend my allowance...he told me some bad guys were after him, and I told him to be careful. I needed to go to the ladies room...and when I came back he'd gone. I'd given him money, but he still took my amethyst key fob... the bastard – he wrenched it right off its chain! It wasn't worth much, but it was **important**. I gave him money, but he **still **took it... I don't care about him any more, but I want my amethyst back."_

_She ended on a wail that was very unlike the girl she'd been when they'd started; he'd put her at nineteen or twenty even, but now he felt he was out by two or three years. Seventeen, he thought. He fished in his pocket to see if he could find a handkerchief in case it turned into full scale tears, but she sat up straight and shrugged, and waited for him to say something._

"_So... why was the key fob important, Angelica?"_

_Her chin reared up."None of your business." There were a couple of epithets in there too. Tony didn't react._

"_No... I guess not. OK, neither's this. Why doesn't your Mom like to see you?" He braced himself._

_Angelica sighed. "It was a gift. An unexpected gift from a boy I like... he gave it me on the spur of the moment... I think he'd like to date me, but I've got much more money than he has, and he thinks it matters. It would to Mom... I didn't mean she doesn't **like** me... she doesn't hate me or anything! I've got everything I could need... college fees paid... clothes... car... but she doesn't **see** me! Her job's much more important to her. She's PA to a big businessman. I mean, really big. If it's a choice between doing something for me or something for Jack, there's no contest."_

"_Ah." Tony mentally kicked himself for that one word, because now Angelica wasn't the only one revealing more than she intended. She looked at him searchingly, with a slight frown gathering above her nose. "Hey... I've been there," he said shortly. "No problem. This isn't about me."_

"_Takes one to know one," she said sadly. She paused. "I didn't tell you," she said after a while, "I didn't tell my Dad either – I knew why the bad guys were after him. I was going to say something when I came back from the rest room. Never got the chance."_

Tony hunched his shoulders and shook his head. "Then she told me the most unbelievable story. And I believe it's true."

TBC

**AN: A bit shorter than usual, but it seemed like a good place to stop. More Doris next chapter.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I couldn't find a way to have Ray in the same area as his wife at the crucial time; but as I sat chatting with ytteb over lunch a couple of weeks ago, she came up with the goods. It's taken me this long to get there, but sknaht, ytteb!**

I Thought You Were a Lady

Chapter 5

Molly the Mole looked at the empty bull-pen thoughtfully. It had to be a case; they wouldn't all have gone otherwise. She put a large envelope with a VA postmark, similar to the one she'd left yesterday with the photos of the two 'fathers' in it, on Agent DiNozzo's desk, lingering over it, reluctant to let go. It had the same writing... more photos of the same men? _Or more possible fathers_? It couldn't be that... what sort of a woman had Agent DiNozzo taken up with? And why was he so keen to help?

Molly stood in the shadow of the staircase, wrestling with temptation... it was instant dismissal if you tampered with mail, but it was killing her not knowing... She put the envelope back on the cart, pushed it briskly round the corner, and drew into the niche that everyone knew wasn't covered by the cameras, and was a haven for people using cell phones to make dates. She pushed up the corner of the envelope; it was one of those that had stiff card on one side, and the type of glue that peeled. She prodded it carefully, and sighed with disappointment. The photograph was face down to the card; she could only see the back. Her courage failed her – there was no way she was going to take it out of the envelope... then she saw the writing on the only corner she could see.

_'This is Doris's dad – ain't he the real thing?' _

Molly heard footsteps, patted the glue down again, and pushed the trolley as if she'd never stopped, her mind racing. Who was sending the pictures? And she thought the woman's name was Liz. _Doris? _She was beginning to doubt Agent DiNozzo's judgement altogether. Who was this Doris's father? Was he an important man? She didn't realise she was standing still, staring hypnotically at the envelope, now on the SFA's desk, until a polite cough came from behind her. It was a wonder she didn't land on the mezzanine, she jumped so violently.

"Agent DiNozzo isn't here right now, Miss... er..." Molly sulked internally, even as she fought to control her fright. Nobody ever remembered the names of the mail room clerks. Well huh, they couldn't all be field agents. "Miss Parker. And I'm sure the rest of the building is very anxious to receive their mail."

"Yes, Director... of course..." she took off like a rabbit with her cart, leaving Vance staring after her in bewilderment. He picked up the envelope, which had absolutely nothing remarkable about it, put it down again and went on his way with a shrug. After Gibbs' call, he had far bigger things to think about.

NCISNCISNCIS

"It's a heck of a tale so far," Tim said with feeling, "and I don't know about anyone else, but I could do with a coffee and a moment to digest it, before we hear any more."

The tiny, flicked look that passed between him and Tony went unnoticed by the other two men, but Tony pushed his chair back. "That word digest sounds good," he agreed as he got to his feet. "Anyone want anything from the canteen?We won't stop, we'll bring back, OK?" After taking orders the two agents set off down the corridor. Once out of earshot, however, they stopped. "What's on your mind, McAgitated?"

"I am _not_ agitated, Tony. Maybe perturbed a little..."

"OK..." the SFA said placatingly – he knew protective McGee when he saw it. "What's wrong?"

Tim looked him in the eye. "Rule three, and rule ten."

Tony frowned as he thought about it. "Ah. The other way round... Never get personally involved... and _that_ rule three, never believe what you're told. You think I feel a connection, and I might not be as objective as I should."

"Just felt I had to say it. If it were Gibbs you would have done," Tim told him steadily. His friend was silent for so long he thought he'd offended him. "Tony... I know you hate talking about it when a case brings up things to do with your childhood, and I could see we were getting the edited version... whenever it came to that young lady being neglected. I just... wouldn't want to see you played."

"You think that's what she's doing?"

"I don't know, I've not spoken to her. And I trust your judgement. Doesn't stop me worrying."

Tony grinned. " Well now, that's kinda good to know. Er no, not that I want you to worry about me... I don't _think_ she's playing me; hey, it's been a long time since anyone played me! DiNozzos don't get played...but I'm double checking. Or rather, Julie Lautner is, the detective who sat in with me. For my protection, not Angelica's! Or so I thought at first... she's back in her holding cell now, with a polite warning of what'll happen if she keeps shooting her mouth off... I asked Julie to take her some food and then start checking everything she could of what she'd heard."

He paused, wondering if Tim wasn't going to like what he said next. It didn't matter, it needed doing, and he sure couldn't do it himself. "Look, I need you to go and help her." Tim opened his mouth, but Tony went on, "She knows the whole story, you'll just hear it from her, not from me. And she hasn't got the sort of computer skills you have. Everything Angelica said needs checking – although, like I said, I think she told the truth. We need all the information we can get, way before Gibbs gets here, and then my gut says we need to be out of here and back over to Gunnerson's, and the Duet area."

Tim nodded. "I was going to say 'good idea'."

"Oh. Never assume..." he headslapped himself.

"Well," Tim said cheerfully, "I noticed Julie. She's blonde, and nice looking..."

"McLusty, I'm surprised at you. And thanks, by the way."

Tim just grinned as they went on towards the canteen.

The 'girls' as Nick called them, not one of them under fifty, who ran the place, liked to fuss over their charges, and sent up enough food to make sure that everyone was properly fed and watered twice over. They settled back round the table, and Tony asked,"Thoughts?"

"On the story so far? I think we need to talk to our two 'we don't know anything's again. You think Miss Cardoza's telling the truth?"

"Wait until you hear the rest of it," Tony said seriously. He honestly didn't think Angelica could make something like this up, although, like he told McDoublecheck, that's what they were doing. He took a swig of coffee, and told them what _he'd_ been told.

Marguerite Bresson had been Jack Burns' PA for nine years. And for seven of those nine years, her daughter had known he was a crook. She'd known because, whenever her mother couldn't get child care – which was often, because the more ignored she was, the more difficult Angelica would become, she'd been dumped in Marguerite's secretary's outer office with something to 'amuse her'. What amused her most, was listening to everything and everybody; and although at ten years old she didn't understand all of what she heard, as she moved into her teenage and on into young womanhood, she bitterly accepted that all the horrible things dear Jack was into, her mom was armpit deep in too.

"_I used to listen at the door when the secretary went out of the office, because I thought my mom and Jack were having an affair, and I wanted to know. They weren't, but I heard plenty of other things. When the secretary went in there, I used to put the intercom on, and I heard lots more..." She paused as her thoughts went off at a tangent, and then said angrily, "How many years ago did you say that Liz lady last saw my dad? Sixteen?" Tony nodded sadly. He knew what had just hit home to her. "How long were they married before he left?"_

_Tony didn't make her pain worse by telling her it hadn't happened that way. "Four years, I believe," he said gravely._

_There was another sharp burst of profanity, and this time Tony did react. "Hey!" he said sharply. "It's not big and it's not smart, and it doesn't make you look good. Step back and listen to yourself, and see if you wouldn't prefer to find some other way to communicate." _

"_Can't take it?"_

"_Grew out of it before you were born." He softened. "Yes, he was already married to Liz when your mom got pregnant with you. I don't know whether she knew or not, you'd have to ask her." He waited, his face saying 'I know you feel bad', although he didn't voice it. He didn't want to give her a chance to sneer again if he could steer her away from it._

"As she got old enough not to be dumped in the outer office," Tony went on sadly, "she took to out-and-out snooping in other ways. She used to still go to the office, on the pretext of wanting to talk to her mother, but only when she'd looked at an email or listened to a phone call that made her want to know more. She decoded every password her mother had, simply by – I quote – 'knowing far more about how she thinks than she ever takes the time to consider, and far more than _she_ knows about _me._'"

There was silence for a moment, then Nick asked tentatively, "Are you saying that she has passwords into Jack Burns' affairs?"

The SFA said just as carefully, "It's possible. We don't know, and we're not going to go blundering into anything. If we've struck gold here, it has to be extracted carefully."

Nick winced. "Ve-e-ry carefully," he agreed.

"Tim's having a cautious look, and there's also an FBI cryptographer being alerted to work with him, once we've got this Gunnerson thing wrapped up. It could be big, yeah. If she's telling the truth. If you ask me to stick my neck out, I think she is. Need Gibbs for a second opinion. But why do I think she's on the level? Remember I mentioned Abby heard about some stock market activity?"

There were property magnates involved, Angelica had told him; people with Greek and Italian names, and Mediterranean addresses. Cruise liners, and sunshine vacations, island retreats... and a very neat plan to cut out all possible rivals. One such businessman had approached Marguerite's secretary to spy for him, and after protesting for a while that it was too dangerous, she'd agreed – having gone straight to the PA. The information she had given the man so far to draw him in, and the package she'd promised, were, carefully devised by Marguerite and her boss. The rival had no idea he was paying a lot of money to a double agent for rubbish.

The massive Mediterranean travel deal that had been whispered on Wall Street was being assembled at Burns' headquarters in DC, and the information that his rival mistakenly thought was going to show him the way to undercut it all, needed to reach him in New York.

"_It wasn't that simple though," Angelica said with that same bitterness twisting a face that was far too young to be coping with such things. "The rival had a **rival**. Don't they say something about honour among thieves?"_

"_They **say** it," Tony agreed. "Any of these honourable men have names that you heard?"_

"_The one paying my mom's Jurgen Koch, based in Munich, but he has offices in New York. City, I mean. That's where the information was supposed to go. The other guy's Swiss, they're both into transport and travel, I think. Eric Visp. They hate each other, and Koch told mom that Visp has links to the Russians, whatever that means."_

_Tony nodded gravely. "It means nasty, Angelica, and whatever happens, you need to be out of it."_

"_I want my damn amethyst back!" Tony raised an eyebrow and just looked at her, and her shoulders slumped. "I'm worried about him... I should hate him – I should give up on him, but I don't..."_

"_That's credit to you, not to anything he's done. But where does he come in to all this?"_

_He was surprised to see tears forming; if she was faking she was better at it than any seventeen year old should be._

"_Mom had this brilliant idea," Angelica spat out. "Why not use the ex you still think hangs round his daughter as the courier? Jack's organisation had no problem at all locating him... told him some tale about a friend saying he was reliable... I wanted to warn him, but I didn't know where he was, even if everyone else **did**!"_

Tony shook his head slowly. "It was difficult for the kid to take, however tough she claims to be. Angelica didn't know how to find him, but two days later _he_ called _her._ She met him at a diner in Springfield, and he explained that he'd realised almost at once that he was being followed. The guys who'd hired him to deliver this memory stick hadn't realised that he'd acquired certain skills in eleven years on the run."

He'd escaped in the rental his hirer had given him, having no option but to be herded in the opposite direction to New York, only to be chased down. He'd crashed the car near Alexandria, escaped on foot, hopped a freight train to Springfield, hidden and and phoned his daughter.

"She gave him money and her car – she remembered taking the key from her fob because she wanted to keep the gemstone. She told her mother later that the car had been stolen – as she expected, Marguerite told her to deal with it herself since she'd been so careless. She asked him what he was going to do. He said he hadn't a clue, but he'd tell her where to find her car as soon as he could. We've put out a BOLO on it, especially here in Virginia, because there has to be some reason those guys think he's coming here, no matter how dumb they're acting."

"We also need to politely ask them to reconsider their story that Angelica was just a hitch hiker," Nick said snarkily.

A uniformed female officer came in at that moment with a written sheet of paper and handed it to Tony, who thanked her and scanned it. "So far... crashed rental car in Alexandria with Cardoza's prints... hired by a name that's cropped up on our lists already – Mace Croft, remember? One of Burns people. 'Clive' is most likely Burns' DC head of security, Clive Bruford. Eric Visp entered the country last week, flying from Berne to New York via London, where he picked up three colleagues, one law and two muscle. Koch is also in New York right now. Manager at the diner in Springfield confirms people matching the descriptions of Angela and her father were there a week ago. He remembers because the man left in a hurry, the girl had to pay and she was angry. Had a dirty mouth, he said."

"Things are beginning to add up," Simon said, "we know why Angelica thinks her father's here, but why do Prater and co think so?"

"Let's talk to them again," Nick Bale said. "You want to watch, Si?"

Half an hour later, an incandescent Simon Townley was being calmed, by, of all people, Gibbs.

Prater had caved as soon as they'd shown him he'd been caught in a lie. "No, she wasn't a hitch hiker, Kev... you went to her college. We have witnesses who saw you speaking to her." Nick didn't crack his face; Tony hadn't said anything about witnesses – but he didn't doubt he'd find one if they needed one. In the observation room the door opened quietly, and Gibbs entered, to stand by Simon just as Tim went into the room beyond the mirror, and silently put a handwritten note in front of Tony. They exchanged grins, and Tony pushed the paper over to Nick as his younger colleague left the room again.

Tim had remembered Greensboro; when he'd spoken in MTAC to Cardoza's shipmates, they'd mentioned a friend who'd been invalided out of the Navy after a torpedo rack had fallen and wrecked his kneecap. Jez Hyde now worked happily as a landscape gardener in the North Carolina town, and once prodded, Prater revealed that Ray had been doing casual work for him when Burns' fixer Croft had first sounded him out about the courier job.

Now, Ray had apparently done something quite amazingly foolish. Pursued by both Koch's men and his Swiss rival's, he'd gone to the nearest library – and plugged the USB into a laptop. Marguerite had received a frantic call from him, asking for help in return for her boss's stolen information back; she'd told him neither she nor her boss had any interest in it. He'd threatened to go to the police with it – and worthless or not to the Europeans, there was still plenty on that stick that was incriminating to Burns.

Now the hapless Cardoza was being seriously hunted, and if Koch and Visp ("Sounds like a comedy double act," Tony had remarked darkly,) were after the USB, Burns was after blood. Nobody crossed him and lived. And once again his organization had the best intelligence. Nobody knew where Ray was, but Burns knew he had a wife somewhere. A search for her name brought up an article celebrating a Virginia man's hundredth birthday at the famous Gunnerson's diner – an article in the Appelt News and Informer.

"You can't write nothing about anybody because one day someone might recognise a name," Gibbs told the furious journalist, and Simon had to admit he was right. He was still seething gently when Tony came to join them.

"So there you have it," the SFA summed up ten minutes later. "'Someone' – sounds like Croft again from the description, told Ray's pal that Liz lived in the area; he passed it on innocently to Ray. Who, by the way, is now carless because he had no money left to buy gas, last time he phoned Jez, so he's been lying low, living rough and was trying to make his way on foot to Liz's place, last time Jez heard from him. No cell response any more, and although Angelica gave us the number we can't track it, the battery must be gone."

He looked round everyone. Tim said thoughtfully, "Angelica's innocent according to everything I've found. I wonder what Jack Burns' loyal right hand woman of the last nine years is going to say when she finds out her boss has dragged her daughter into this. Assuming she doesn't know, of course."

Simon shook his head. "I guess he wanted to use her as bait? Surely her mother wouldn't go along with that?"

"I spoke to Angelica," Gibbs said.

"You did? And?" Tony's eyebrows shot up.

"Told her I'd put her over my knee if she ever used language like that again. She said she didn't really want to. She _does_ want to be in on finding her father." He looked at Tony., who frowned and thought for a moment.

"How's this, then? It's all going to go down at or near the diner. You set the place up as you see fit, you and Ziva, and Nick and his people. Protect Liz, and Angelica. Hey, and Min. My idea would be that the bad guys never get inside, but plenty of people to assist on the outside."

"And what'll you be doing?" He gave Tony a look that was outwardly sour, but smothering amusement. "As if I didn't know."

"Well, Boss, how best to search for a man living rough?" He pointed to Tim. "Man-Who-Tracks." To Simon. "Man-Who-Knows-Land."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and sighed. "You, Kemo Sabe?"

"Man-Who-Has-Doris."

NCISNCISNCIS

She stood in the yard, ears pricked, huffing happily and looking wide awake. The gangly Jim, that Tim had ridden stood close by, with Simon's favourite mount, Coco, and Elmer the short sighted mule. Tony grinned as Amos and Sally came out of the tack room.

"Hey – looks like Man-Who-Is-Grumpy-but-Wise's coming too."

Sally glared at him. "Woman-Who Is-Not-To-Be-Messed-With is telling you not to come back broken again. And don't break my husband either."

Tony, rubbing Doris's nose, ran over and kissed her before he swung up into his saddle.

"Keep tellin' ya," Amos said, "Get one of your own."

TBC

**AN: I had no idea the explanations would take another whole chapter. Action coming up.**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I thought I'd better get this chapter out before VP arrives tomorrow, or it wouldn't get done for a week. Remember that guest room I hauled all the plaster for? I have to have an inaugural guest, and she was the last one to endure it in its previous awful state. **

"**Ai now decleah this guest room ewpen..."**

**We're not PROMISING a collaboration...**

I Thought You Were a Lady

Chapter 6

Molly Parker watched the clock all day, and left work the moment she could get away. She hurried down to the metro station, caught a train to Metro Central, and almost ran the rest of the way to the Martin Luther King Memorial Library. She was looking for one thing... she'd show her doubting friends she knew what she was talking about. It irked her that she'd had to come to the public library, splendid, vibrant and full of light as the place was, when NCIS had Marquis Who's Who available to them, but she didn't have the clearance to access it, and didn't know anyone who did well enough to ask. Two hours later, she was utterly frustrated... there wasn't a single VIP in the whole of Virginia with a daughter called Doris.

Her eyes were beginning to spin in her head when she came across Dr. Gerrard Wyndham, resident of Ruther Glen, VA...

She moved hastily to the eminent consultant surgeon's own web page, and found that yes, he did indeed have two adult children, Dylan and _Dora... S_he looked at a family photo. To her young, and (if she but realised it) way on the shallow side viewpoint, poor Dora, forty two and unmarried, was distinctly on the homely side. She had to have mis-read that name. This was it. Wait until she told them tomorrow...

NCISNCISNCIS

The sun was dropping behind the higher mountains to the west, as the eventful day began to draw to a close; nothing had happened anywhere near the diner, and there'd been no sign of anything along the trails in the hills. Angelica's car had been located twenty miles away, and towed to the local police yard; Gibbs hadn't wanted it brought to the diner. It would have been as good as a beacon to unfriendly eyes – 'there's a Cardoza here'.

Ziva had suggested, rather persuasively to Prater and his sidekick that they might help their case by calling in to reassure their boss that all was well, but neither man had dared lie to the man, so by now Burns knew that his frighteners hadn't reported in. There was only one possible reason for that – they were under arrest. The cops were involved, so if he sent more men, which was really when, not if, they'd be armed. Not good. Even more not good when both Liz and Min flatly refused to leave the diner. They'd been putting people off all day by saying they were fully booked, and a chalkboard notice at the entrance to the parking area bore the colourful message, 'closed for private function', but that was all the compromise Liz would make. "My place. I'm not leaving it."

Min stood alongside her. "Ha... I take you up on partnership offer. Our place."

"_Angelica refuses to go too – nicely, have to say... she says her dad could arrive in the middle of the night, and I can't argue with that. Come down... you can always ride again in the morning, if necessary. And tell Townley no, much as I appreciate –"_

"_Already did, Boss. He's not too happy."_

Simon wasn't – the warrior in him wanted to defend the innocent, and the newspaperman in him wanted a scoop, but he'd appreciated Tony's argument, when he'd said no, he couldn't spend the night in the diner with them, and reminded him he had a lovely lady waiting for him who didn't want to be a widow before she was a wife, and the best son a dad could wish for – to say nothing of the said newspaper to run.

"_It's one thing tracking an unarmed – unless he's nicked a gun from somewhere, but he'd be stupid to try to shoot the people who're trying to help him – "_

"_If he's smart enough to realise that's who we are and not shoot first – damn, I'm arguing against myself, aren't I?" Simon fell exasperatedly silent, and Tony went on blithely as if he'd not spoken._

" – _petty crook, it's quite another for us to put you in the line of fire. And yeah, you too, Amos." He gave them the sort of grin that made them both want to throttle him, in a completely brotherly sort of way._

When they came to the bottom of the hill, and the road, Tony and Tim slid from their saddles, patted their horses, and set off down the road to the diner at a stiff run, while the other two, with visible bad grace, at least until the agents' backs were turned, took the reins of Doris and Jim, and set off up the grass path in the other direction that led to Duet.

"I don't like backing out of it," Simon said worriedly. "Never turned my back on anything in the Corps. Now I have to wait until morning – if it isn't all over – maybe badly – by then."

Amos nodded wryly. "Sass won't know whether to be relieved I came back or mad that I left him. But he's right – we can't help right now. I'll be ready with the horses at sun-up, though."

"I'll be there."

NCISNCISNCIS

3am, and the spotters up on the hills with their night glasses reported no activity, for the twentieth time. So did the armed officers concealed in the loading bay. The interior of the diner had gone over to night lighting at midnight; everyone sat on the floor to be invisible from the road, where the occasional car would make for a momentary increase in tension, until it went on by, and the watchers reported that it didn't stop. Min had all the blinds down in the kitchen, and made pizzas in the almost dark. Some people were hungry, some weren't; most people ate at least one slice – they were very good. "Ha... never mind Italians – Vietnamese invent pizzas!"

There really was no alternative, Tim thought, mentally checking things off also for the twentieth time. Bad guys with guns were coming; Tony hadn't mentioned a film, yet, but he was sure he could think of one – and there was only one place where they knew they'd come, away from town and innocent bystanders, where they could take them on. "Bit like the OK Corral," he said softly. Tony grinned broadly. "You've been watching too many movies, McGunfight!"

The younger agent smiled lazily back. They were leaning their backs against the counter, thoughtfully munching their last slices, and watching the road where it came over a slight rise and down an even slighter hill, when Min appeared at Tony's elbow. His English almost unfractured, as it always was when he didn't have an audience to amuse, he said quietly, " Ah...That little girl's not doing so well, you know? Makes out she so tough, she lost little thing. She don't even want my pizza! What you do if you're seventeen, and both your parents are bad people?" He looked hard at Tony, and handed him more hot pizza wedges wrapped in a pink gingham napkin.

The agent understood the command, grinned as easily as before, (Tim wondered how he endlessly kept up the fake nonchalance that fooled everyone but his team,) and began to scoosh across the floor to where Angelica sat beside the fish tank, his grin fading as soon as Min couldn't see his face. He had a good idea what was bothering the teenager, and hadn't anything of comfort to say. She turned her head away from the window as Tony approached, but didn't speak. He held the napkin out and said seriously, "Ideally, you should be getting some sleep while you can. I can see you're not going to, so the next best thing is Min's pizza."

"Mmm... He said that. But I'm just not hungry."

She watched as he put the napkin on the floor between them and opened it. "Picnic," he said, and took out a slice. She breathed the delicious aroma in, then looked away again. "I don't think anything's going to happen tonight," he said reassuringly, although he knew that wasn't what she was thinking.

After a while, during which time he nibbled rather than vacuumed a slice, she said finally, "My Mom will go to prison because of me."

"If your Mom goes to prison, it'll be because of things she's done. It won't be your fault. Believe me, Angelica, we'd have got Burns in the end. It's just coming sooner because of what she did to your father."

She sighed, and looked directly at him for the first time. "I didn't spy out of malice, you know."

"At first it was curiosity; then you did it to protect yourself."

Her eyes widened. "How did you... ah, you're like me, aren't you. I knew you were."

"There may... be a parallel or two. Forget about me."

"But – "

"I'll tell you some time if you're really interested... but right now, you've got things you need to say. Have some pizza."

Angelica took a slice and looked at it as if it were a piece of alien art work. "I needed to know what was going on... she talked me into doing business studies because she had, and she knew all the right people – I was terrified, you know, that she'd say when I qualified, 'right, now there's a great job waiting for you in Burns Enterprises – because I absolutely _so_ did not intend to work for a criminal! I was going to say something like, 'no, I know what he's all about. I'm going off to study... anything... ethnic weaving techniques in Uzbekistan... anything, as far away as possible. And as long as you're cool about it I'll never say anything to anybody."

"Which would have been all very well until Jack got wind of it."

"I know that now," the youngster lamented. "D'you think she knew he'd told them to drag me along today? D'you think she knew they'd use me against my Dad?" In the semi-darkness her brown eyes were huge and round, and carried a desperate plea for some sort of comfort. "She never loved me..."

Tony spoke so softly she knew it was for her ears only. "I used to think it was my fault that my father didn't love me... that I wasn't loveable. It took me a long time to realise that I was no worse than anyone else... that it was him, not me. Left me insecure to this day. But I found people who do care about me, and I finally believed I'm worth something. My father was wrong."

She looked at him solemnly, understanding how much he was giving her, and after a while asked, "What about your Mom?"

"Oh, she died when I was very young. She loved me, I remember."

"My Dad loves me. He's not very good at it... I mean, he _took_ my amethyst – but he does. What?" She read his expression and her voice rose a little in anxiety.

He took both her hands and squeezed them. "There's a chance your Dad'll go to prison as well, hon."

"But... but maybe he didn't know what he was doing was criminal, maybe – oh. He's done other things as well, you mean." Her shoulders slumped.

"Nothing terrible that I know of. You just need to know that he maybe won't be around more than he is at the moment. Not for a while. I'm sorry, Angelica."

It was a measure of how far she'd come in the last few hours, that she didn't swear. She just said sadly, "So I'll be alone, then."

Tony thought for a moment, and said truthfully, "You may find this weird, but sometimes it's the best thing for you to be alone, even if it doesn't feel like it at the time... you don't have to worry about other people's demands and expectations... you can work out what you expect of yourself, and you can choose who you want to be with so you're not alone any more. Sort of a fresh start, if you like."

He looked around the darkened room and was aware of Gibbs and Ziva watching them – he'd known they would be. "Something else... it's worked out for the best that Burns' guys dragged you here – we talked about it. Nobody will ever need to know where we got our information from."

"I won't have to be a witness? I was a bit scared about that, although I haven't had much time to think about it."

"We're not telling anyone what our sources are... no way we'd hang you out to dry in front of Burns. You'll be safe. And in the end, you'll be OK, Angelica. You said you wouldn't work for a criminal – you've got some idea already of what you expect of yourself. You'll be fine." He waved a hand round the room. "And you won't be completely alone. You going to eat that pizza, or get some sleep?"

She looked down at the wedge in her hand, and took a hefty bite, and her eyes closed for a moment, savouring the taste. "I guess... both," she said when her mouth was empty enough. "Thanks, Tony."

He waited silently while she finished the slice and ate another, in case she thought of anything else she needed to say, but she just smiled tiredly, so he pulled the seat pad down from the nearest chair, laid it on the floor and patted it invitingly. "There – best we can do for a pillow." She lay down and put her head on it, and he shrugged out of his jacket and put it over her while it still retained his body heat. She smiled again, eyes drooping, muttered thanks, and settled down, and Tony wriggled back to Tim. "Anything?"

Tim was hunched over his i-phone. "Abby's collated all the different information sources, car-hire, cameras, that bar brawl, we've got names for a checklist of who turns up. Local helitaxi firm's set up to fly two machines over the hills in the morning. One pass each in different directions, not hanging around to spook anyone, but they might spot something to give us a lead. Ziva's been talking to the cryptographer; she tells me he's being very cautious, but he thinks it's his birthday and Christmas. That's about it."

And it was. There wasn't even a passing vehicle to relieve the monotony until a milk tanker went by at first light. Fifteen minutes after that the watchers on the hills reported two men and four horses coming down the trail from Duet, and the Troublemint Twins snuck out through the back door and away through the brush to meet them.

To Tony's absolute astonishment, after her usual greeting, his mare went straight for his pocket, her nose twitching. He pulled out a wedge of veggie-perfect pizza, and she wolfed the lot. "So much for my elevenses," he said mournfully. "Are all pregnant women the same?"

He noticed a bit of a wince and a huff from Tim as he swung up with an effort into the saddle on the tallest mount of the four, but he decided not to tease. Tim, however, had been working with Tony long enough now to be wary, and glanced back at him. "Tony, if you say anything about a pain in the butt..."

Tony grinned. "I was tempted..."

"My butt would probably be happier if it hadn't sat on a diner floor all night." Tony knew he was right; even an experienced rider felt muscle stiffness if they hadn't ridden for a while, and there was no way that Tim could be described as that, even though he was doing more than fine for a beginner. Or had been, until this morning. Jim was exhibiting more skittishness than sense, and both Tony and Amos considered, and rejected offering their mounts instead, as McGee fought to make the pesky bay settle down.

As they reached the top of the first ridge, things escalated. The trail wound round a shale slope, dotted with rocks, remnants of some ancient landslide, and the four riders strung out into single file – and at that moment the first expected helicopter rose straight up from behind the next ridge. Its sound had been completely masked, and now it shot up with a shattering roar, and even Doris twitched a little. Elmer, in the lead, shied and jerked his head around, trying with his limited eyesight to identify the threat, and Jim, reading his anxiety, panicked. He attempted to turn, to flee back in the direction they'd come, but Doris was behind him so he spun again. If he stepped off the trail it meant disaster, and in any case Tim, whose experience definitely didn't extend to this, was slipping further out of his saddle with every lunge of his freaked out mount. If the horse didn't tumble down the slope, the rider still might...

Tony urged Doris forward, between Jim and the downward slope, and she went into the narrow gap without hesitation. The SFA leaned far out of his saddle and grabbed his friend by the back waistband of his jeans. He yanked hard, and Tim regained his seat with a grunt. The offending helicopter was disappearing in the distance, and with Doris alongside him, nudging him in the right direction, Jim was beginning to realise he was making a fuss over nothing.

"Y'all right, McGee?" Amos was embarrassed – his horses didn't behave like that, although, to be fair, they'd none of them had to endure anything like that before.

"I'm fine... now." He patted and soothed his mount, and got his breath back as they moved forward onto a broader section of trail. Amos gave in and offered to swap mounts, but he shook his head. "Oh no, Amos, him and me'll get to understand each other in the end."

He drew back to ride alongside his SFA, and murmured "Thanks, Tony." His friend opened his mouth to say 'you're welcome', but Tim went on, "You didn't just let me fall." It was a statement that was a question. Tony shook his head. Clearly McGee had been too occupied with hoss-wrestling to notice his surroundings.

"If we'd been on a nice, broad, grassy path, maybe. There are some temptations a man's just _meant_ to fall into." Tim began to glare at him, but he smiled peaceably and went on, "Seriously, I think we have to fall off sometimes to teach us how to stay on, ya know? But there? Where we were? It's neither my job nor my pleasure to get you hurt. Anyway, you should thank Doris, not me."

Tim smiled, and reached over to pat her wren-brown neck. "Thanks, Doris." He glanced back, past Simon bringing up the rear, to look at the shale slope that had almost been his undoing, and then stiffened, and stood up in his stirrups to get a closer look. "There!" he said sharply. Tony, and then Simon, followed his pointing finger. Much further down the slope, a figure was moving stealthily on foot from one patch of scrub to another, heading towards the trail that ran at the foot of the hill, heading for the road and Gunnerson's Diner.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: I said it was very bad manners to not update in a week, and it's been twelve days, so my manners are even worse now. I'm sorry if that's been so long you've forgotten what the story was about – or who the hell I am...**

I Thought You Were a Lady

Chapter 7

Sunrise was way too early for Molly the Mole to be up and about, but as she burrowed molishly deeper into her duvet, and her mind wandered around amongst her favourite topics, it was inevitable that the subject of Tony DiNozzo's girl would come up. She still wondered where 'Liz' came into it; maybe an aunt? Dora's mother was Joan... She wove a wonderful tale of Tony being kind to the homely Dora, and calling her his girl as a friendly joke... but Dora getting pregnant by some rotter because Gibbs wasn't looking after her... she'd get to the bottom of it.

She dozed blissfully; the truth of the matter was that Dora Wyndham preferred to describe herself as 'single' rather than 'divorced from a jellyfish', and the photograph had been taken during her protracted, difficult and brave recovery from a stroke. It was something Molly Parker would never take the trouble to know, (and fortunately for her, Dora would never even hear of _her;_) she simply enjoyed another hour and a half lie in.

NCISNCISNCIS

"Could be he hasn't seen us up here," Amos said hopefully. "Maybe the chopper spooked him."

_Fat chance,_ Tim thought bitterly. _My equine fandango just now would have attracted anyone's attention._

"He's not looked up here since you spotted him, McHawkeye, " Tony said reassuringly, knowing what the younger agent was thinking. "He'll hear the horses soon enough, though." He came to a quick decision. "Tim, you and Simon go the long way round, quietly... find a shallow way down the hill so you won't make much noise. Try to come up behind him – my guess is he's making for that cover." He pointed to a patch of scrub and low trees_, _on the side of a slight hillock. Beyond that, they knew, was the road, and Ray Cardoza wouldn't want to be seen on that at all.

"There's brush like that all the way to the diner," Tony went on. "We don't want him to get in there, it'll be harder to find him. We really want to get him first and warn him, way _before_ he gets there. We've got the mounts that can go down the slope fast," he indicated Doris and Elmer, "we'll make lots of noise and hopefully drive him back towards you. We'll give you a head start."

Tim nodded, and set off with Simon, and Tony's phone chose that moment to buzz.

"_Have you seen him? The observers on the hill have him below your position."_

"Yeah, Boss, we're on him. It's definitely Cardoza – even from up here we can tell he's a man who's been living rough. Gotta go, we're – "

"_DiNozzo!"_

"Boss?"

"_LEOs report two cars in convoy not ten miles away. One's a Maybach with tinted windows – registered to a Burns company." _

"Ah. The big cheese himself has come out of the fridge, then. The other vehicle will be muscle – with guns, yeah?"

"_Believe it. We've left three guys inside the diner to protect Liz and everyone, and set up two perimiters. Once they're through the outer one, mile or so away, the locals'll close the road. Ziva 'n Bale 'n me, and some others, we're around the parking lot, although they won't see it. Got people between them and the gas station – although it's not open yet and the pumps are all turned off, don't want a firefight there...Kinda hoping to take 'em down without a shot fired... got the feeling it won't be that easy."_

"Look out for yourselves, Boss."

"_You too. Get Cardoza." _Tony heard the unspoken 'and look out for him too ' as he disconnected, and sighed. Gibbs was thinking of Angelica, as he was – the man was a poor weak excuse for a father, but he was all the kid had. He looked across at Amos and nodded, and the two turned their mounts towards the steep slope. Amos let Tony go off first, knowing that his mule was happier with someone to follow, and both animals sat back on their haunches and picked their way down the steep slope, their riders leaving it up to them.

It went like clockwork; with Amos staying on the path and Tony weaving Doris in and out of the scrub; the dishevelled Cardoza was flushed from hiding like a partridge. He ran back down the trail, with Tony keeping to a gentle trot behind him, and yelling sarcastic advice.

"Yep, Ray, that's the way to do it... tuck your elbows in, come on, lengthen your stride, breathe through your mouth... or you could just stop and listen... don't forget to look where you're going – oh dear, that's a big thing to run into – 's called a horse..." He reined Doris in alongside where Ray Cardoza sat gasping on the ground, having rebounded off Coco's shoulder. "_Now_ will you listen? We're NCIS, and we're actually here to protect you."

"Protect me?" Cardoza hauled himself wearily to his feet. He'd been a handsome man; you could see where Angelica got her latin good looks from, but years of dissolution and living on the tatty fringes of society had aged and ruined him.

"We know who you're running from, and we know why," Tony told him plainly. "You'd do best to give me that stick... it's of no use to you now."

"If I do that, you'll shoot me!"

Behind him, Tim sighed. "We could do that anyway, and take the USB off your corpse. Who d'you prefer, feds or Jack Burns?"

Cardoza shrugged, and unzipped a pocket in his jacket. He reached in and pulled out a small envelope, which he began to hand to Tony.

"No, give it to Agent McGee. He's the tech guy." As Ray did so, Tony went on, "Look there. You dropped something. It fell out at the same time."

"Oh... yeah. Thanks..."

Tim said in surprise, "It's the amethyst!"

"How'd you know about that?"

"Your daughter's a bit mad... says you stole it," Tony said without accusation. He'd always wondered if that were the truth of it.

"You've seen Angelica? No, it wasn't like that! Angie helped me... She dropped it. We were in this coffee shop... she went to the rest room... I saw it on the ground just as some guys came looking for me. I picked it up and ran... been carrying it ever since." He wrapped it carefully back in the scrap of tissue it had fallen out of, and gave them a puzzled look. "Didn't think it was that important... but I wanted to give it back to her some day."

Tony swung down from his saddle, producing his cuffs. "Could be sooner than you think, Ray; the bad guys brought her into this – long story – to use against you, but she's with us now, at the diner." He went to fasten Cardoza's hands behind him, but took a close look at him and secured them in front instead. He reached for the canteen from his saddle, took the lid off and gave it to the fugitive. While he drank, Tony went to his saddlebag and brought out two power bars, and handed them to Cardoza once he'd taken his water bottle back. The man mumbled in surprised thanks.

"That'll hold you for now, you're under arrest for desertion from the US Navy, and who knows what else." He turned to the two ad hoc team members and took a deep breath. "Si, Amos... this is where you take the horses and get the hell out of Dodge again."

"Dammit, Tony -"

"Nothing's changed, Simon. We could be outnumbered. I could do with your help. But I'm not taking it. You know why. Thanks for everything, and get gone."

As Tony spoke, Tim slid down from Jim's back, and handed his reins up to Amos. Tony gave Doris's reins to Simon, because he knew that if he left her loose she'd follow _him_, not his friends. Si gave him a resigned look, and wheeled his mare without a word.

The two agents set off on foot, with Cardoza between them, and Tony dug out his cell phone. "We've got him, Boss, we're walking in; anything happening? And how d'you want to play this?"

"_Come in cautiously, like you didn't know that – they're not here yet, pretty sure they know we __**are**__, but we've got them outnumbered. They'll be planning something, just have to think ahead of them." _Gibbs disconnected.

Ray Cardoza looked warily at his captors. "What's going on?"

"Well, Ray, let's begin by explaining that it's a good job we found you, because if you'd gone blundering in there without us, it would have been the last thing you ever did..."

Nothing much of what Tony had to tell him as they walked the half mile to the diner surprised Cardoza; he looked about as resigned as Simon had done, until they explained how his daughter had got there, but then he was both shocked and enraged.

"Why didn't you take her away? You'll get her killed – you know what Burns'll do -"

"Ray, she's in this because of _you_, no-one else. She wanted to be here for your sake, and we'll keep her – and you – safe. As long as you just do as you're told, right?" Cardoza fell into a mutinous silence, which continued until they caught sight of the diner through the trees.

Tony and Tim drew their guns, and moved forward keeping to cover, with a short order to Cardoza to do the same. "The alternative is I cuff you to a tree. Your choice."

"I'll co-operate."

They edged closer; the agents and police around the building were well concealed from the Maybach that screeched into the car park followed by another vehicle with dark windows. The watchers waited until the second car had disgorged all its passengers, who began to walk towards the diner, when Gibbs' voice rang out.

"Federal Agents, armed police! You're surrounded and out-numbered– drop your weapons and get down on the ground!"

The men seemed to make a big show of hesitating, and then began to obey very slowly, and some of the police officers began to emerge from hiding, guns aimed, when two huge Toyota eight seaters hurtled up from the opposite direction to the other two cars, and their occupants jumped out, shooting, before they'd even come to a halt.

"Where the hell did they come from?" Nick Bale hissed, as he threw himself down behind one of the low boundary walls, and his men dived for cover. "Why didn't the observers warn us?"

"Later!" Gibbs hissed back as the air was shattered by the gunfire. The occupants of the cars took cover between them and the opposite wall, while the Maybach remained still and apparently silent, until, at some unseen signal, the gunmen ceased fire. In the stunning silence, a smooth voice emerged from it.

"Now, Agent Gibbs, I believe _you're _outnumbered. It seems we have a stand-off. I want my information, and the thief who took it."

"Seem to remember you gave it to him," Gibbs said coldly, not a bit surprised that Burns knew his name. "You can't have it, or him." His agents and their prisoner materialised silently at his elbow; Tony and Tim pushed Ray Cardoza down behind the wall and told him to stay down.

"It'd be a shame if innocent people were to be hurt," the smooth voice said, and this time the hail of bullets, aimed high for the time being, was directed at the diner, and only ended when the plate glass front disintegrated into a cascade of diamonds that glinted in the morning sun as they crashed down. The law officers prayed that the civilians and their colleagues inside had all taken up their agreed cover positions long before and stayed there. Again the unnerving silence followed, until a scared and angry voice from inside screamed "Mom! Mom, make them stop!"

The microphone inside the car that had transmitted Jack Burns' voice to the outside world caught Marguerite Bresson's shock. "Angelica! Jack, what's my daughter doing here?"

Nobody thought to turn the mike off. "I don't know! I thought she was in some police station somewhere!"

"But how did she get here? She's supposed to be in DC! Jack, did you do this?"

Angelica yelled, "He wanted to use me to get to Dad!"

"_What?"_

Marguerite was possibly the only person in the entire underworld who wasn't scared of Burns, and the microphone picked up a furious altercation, of which only a few words were clear, until the criminal big boss was heard saying plaintively, "Maggie, can we talk about this later? There are more urgent things to deal with here."

Gibbs clearly wasn't the only one who thought things weren't going according to plan. "Seems you have a bit of a problem here, Mr. Burns."

Tony thought of the Simpsons, not for the first time, suppressed a grin and concentrated resolutely.

"Not much of one," Burns was back to being urbane. "All right, forget Cardoza. My arm's long... he can spend a while looking over his shoulder until I finally get him. I just want that memory stick. I'll take it and go, and nobody gets hurt."

"And then we just let you drive away?"

Tim and Tony exchanged looks. "Boss," Tony whispered, "He could – "

"- be talking from New York," Tim finished.

"I got it," the Boss whispered back, then raised his voice again. "You just threatened a man's life in front of witnesses, and shot up an innocent woman's property, with your assistant's daughter inside. Don't care how teflon you are, Mr. Burns, those charges'll do for a start."

"Well, then, we could have a fight on our hands. I'll send one of my men over to you, you give him the stick, and we leave. Or you all die, and we take it off Cardoza's body." On the ground behind the wall Ray winced and groaned – it was the second time in half an hour that he'd heard something like that. This guy meant it though.

"Oh, no. You want the stick, you come and get it yourself."

There was silence for a moment. "I'm not stupid, Agent Gibbs."

"That's Special Agent Gibbs. Neither am I. If you're in the car, show me."

The window slid down, and Jack Burns head and shoulders could be seen – a bulky man in a vicuna overcoat, wearing a pleasant smile. They could see Marguerite sitting beyond him, a handsome, middle-aged Mediterranean woman with a perfectly cut cap of black hair. "As you see, I'm not in New York. Now, _Special_ Agent Gibbs... I'm a pragmatist... I knew as soon as that stick was loose somewhere in the hands of an idiot like Cardoza that I was going to have to move to the Caymans. A change of scenery would be nice. But that information, in the hands of someone like your Agent – I'm sorry, _Special _Agent McGee, would be enough to damage my business diversification in the USA, and I can't have that. I'm prepared to cut my losses and leave without anyone getting hurt, but I need that stick."

Gibbs and Nick Bale stood up from behind the wall, and a lot of guns pointed their way. The wall and their vests gave them some protection, but it was still a crazy thing to do as far as Tony was concerned. So he stood too, because if the Boss was going to be crazy, he wasn't going to do it alone. Without his team, that was. Tim rose silently to flank him on the other side, and they stood with guns raised. "Vests?" Gibbs hissed.

"We'll duck," Tony hissed back.

Gibbs raised eyes to heaven. "Ya'd better be ready to." He turned his attention back to Burns. "Leave..." he said, "You mean in that helicopter that's waiting over the ridge at Appelt? It's never comin'."

Burns swore explosively. He leaned over to say something to his driver, but there was the sudden repeated bark of a high-powered rifle, and the stinger-proof tyres of the Maybach were shredded. Ziva got up, smiling, behind the shrub she'd been lying under, and rested the rifle on the top of it.

"You're not going anywhere," Gibbs said flatly, "with or without the stick." He raised his voice. "You guys! Ya hear anything?"

The gunmen listened, then, like a crowd at a tennis match, they all looked in the same direction. Two helicopters were approaching, flying low.

"One's State Troopers, the other's Marines. Ya want to take them on in a fight, go ahead."

Some of Burns' hired help raised their hands immediately; some hesitated. Burns himself still didn't know when he was beaten. He jumped out of the Maybach and headed towards the nearest Toyota. Marguerite followed, tugging on his arm. "Jack, forget it! We can figure this out – your lawyers will fix it -" His attempts to shake her off failing, he turned and punched his PA of nine years in the face. She staggered back and sprawled on the ground holding her cheek – and her daughter ran out of the diner screaming "Mom!"

The MCRT gritted their collective teeth – this was one thing they hadn't counted on, the officers inside Gunnerson's were supposed to be keeping her in the back room. Burns grabbed her arm before she could kneel beside her mother, and swung her in front of him. Tony started forward, only to be brought to a halt by seeing the Ruger the crime boss pulled from the pocket of his expensive vicuna dug into the girl's side. He stopped, holding his gun out by the trigger guard, away from his body.

Ray Cardoza didn't stop. He launched himself across the parking lot, unleashing a stream of invective that made Tony realise where Angelica had learned her bad language from. "Get the hell away from my daughter, you bastard!" His hands went round Jack Burns' throat, and the man released his hold on Angelica. But as she stumbled away, and Tony grabbed her to drag her to safety again, there was the sound of a shot, and the teenager screamed. Her father toppled to the ground, almost in slow motion, and Burns stood over him, staring almost in surprise at the gun in his hand. He looked at the ring of guns, and his own men laying down their weapons, and made his decision. He brought the Ruger up to aim at Gibbs, and Nick shot him in the head.

Angelica was kneeling beside her father's body, screaming, tugging his arm and crying "Dad, Dad..."

Tony knelt beside her, and after a while, put his hand on her arm. She whirled towards him, her eyes blazing, and he waited for the barrage of swearing to begin. His eyes pleaded back. _Don't go back to being that Angelica..._ She swung back and forth between badass and lost kid for what felt like eternity to him, then flung herself into his arms and sobbed broken-heartedly.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: The last chapter... some thanks due!**

**To the un-logged in reviewers, especially kubotr who pops up to encourage, to Gail for her Creggibility assurance, Laine for a really helpful time-line comment, and Ytteb for many thought-provoking remarks that've given me an idea or two, including a belter (well I think so) for this chapter... and everyone else who's trotted through the trilogy with Tony and Doris the Wonder Horse.**

I Thought You Were a Lady

Chapter 8

In the extra ninety minutes Molly Parker had stayed in bed, two men had died and the object of her lurid imagination had taken a teenage girl in his arms. If she'd seen the aftermath of the gunfight at Gunnerson's, Molly might have revised her opinion of what was important in life, but she slept on.

NCISNCISNCIS

Tim stood looking at the scene, and thinking again, just for a moment, of the OK Corral. Prisoners were being rounded up by hard looking men who'd descended by rope from the 'copters; shards of glass spilled out like an avalanche and the hole the glass had left gaped.

Two bodies lay on the asphalt, blood splashed on immaculate coat and dirty jeans, and running onto the tarmac. Tony had placed himself between the girl who was still sobbing into his shirt, and her father, lying, still cuffed, close by. Something caught Tim's eye, as he bent to retrieve Tony's cuffs; it was the wisp of tissue he'd seen before. Cardoza must have been clutching it right up until the moment his restrained hands had gone for Burns' throat. He bent and picked it up, feeling the hard object wrapped in it, and took it to Tony, holding it out silently.

His friend took it with a nod of thanks, and as Tim turned away to do other things, his eyes widened as he looked past Tony, and he smiled briefly. Still silently, he pointed, towards the trail that came down behind the gas-station; Simon Townley was frog-marching a stray gunman, a head taller than himself, back to join his friends. He looked Tim in the eyes, then Tony, who craned his head round to see, and they both knew his triumphant look would have been a broad grin if he hadn't taken in the scene. Tony sketched a tiny salute – honour satisfied all round.

Another figure moved in between them; or rather two figures. Detective Lautner was steering Marguerite Bresson, her hands cuffed behind her, towards one of the many squad cars, but the businesswoman stopped, and took one involuntary step towards Tony. He waited. Marguerite looked for a long time at her boss, then frowned down in an attempt to look at the bruise on her cheek. Her face was unreadable. Only after that long stare, did she transfer her attention to her former lover, then to her daughter.

Angelica seemed to feel the gaze on her, or she felt Tony stiffen, and she lifted her head. The first thing she saw was the pair of Audley of London shoes, and her gaze went slowly, hesitantly upwards past the Dior suit until she met her mother's eyes.

"Mom..."

Marguerite didn't speak at first, then she looked at Tony and spoke to him, the stranger comforting her daughter. Her face just as expressionless, she said flatly, "She's better off without me," and allowed the detective to lead her away before Angelica could find her voice.

The teenager didn't start to cry again; she sat for a moment, then turned back to Tony. "Am I?" she asked forlornly.

"I think..." he replied slowly, "I think it's her way of protecting you. Prison's no place for you to be visiting, when you should be studying, or enjoying time off with your friends... she's used to you seeing her in Dior – she's used to _being_ in Dior... Just... give her time. She might change her mind in the end. She might _need_ you one day – that'd be something!"

"Yeah... she might need me..." Angelica echoed sadly.

She tried to look past him at her father's body, and he didn't attempt to stop her. She reached forward to touch Ray's face softly, and then looked back at Tony. Her voice shook as she said, "Can we go somewhere else now? I... I've said goodbye."

Tony helped her to her feet, and started to steer her towards the diner. "Look, kiddo," he said seriously, "this is as bad as it gets. This is the lowest point - "

"You're going to tell me that time'll heal it all." There was a trace of the old belligerence.

"Yeah, sort of. You know these things never completely go away, but yeah, you'll heal, if you want to. And you already made that decision just now."

"I did?"

"Yep... when you decided not to bend my ears with another dose of language."

"Wha – oh, you're right. I'm not going to do that any more."

"You don't have to. Sit a minute."

Min had already swept glass fragments from some of the seats, and stood with his broom, watching them but not speaking.

Tony opened his palm, and showed Angelica the wad of tissue. "This was in your Dad's hand all the time he was behind that wall with us, right until he dashed out to help you." He didn't mention just _when_ they guessed he'd dropped it.

The teenager took it, her eyes widening; she knew what it was before she unwrapped it. A moment later, the little purple crystal, with its tiny silver loop, lay in the palm of her hand.

"He saw it on the floor of that coffee shop," Tony told her. "You dropped it – somehow it came off your fob after you took your car key off it. He picked it up so it wouldn't get lost, and he wanted to give it back to you."

She looked out into the parking lot, but the coroner's men had already quietly taken Ray's body, and parked their van between the diner and Jack Burns. Tony wondered who'd given them that idea. When she looked back, a mug of hot chocolate had appeared in front of her; Min nodded wisely as he walked away. Angelica wrapped her hands round the mug, and dented the froth on top of the drink as one huge tear landed in it.

NCISNCISNCIS

Since they did fix it, and nothing went pear-shaped, as Simon had feared, he and Mary did get married on the date they'd planned. It was about as good a day as the gunfight at the diner had been a bad one; with the service at the local Episcopalian church, and a picnic on the green lawn outside the dam offices, since the staff of the News and Informer remained on excellent terms with the Four Dams Administration.

The food was provided by Scott Milner's company, which was thriving since he'd elected to stay an honest man, and a hero, after the dam drama; Liz had offered, but Mary had insisted that she and Min took a day off to be guests instead. Doris was dressed for the occasion with a garland of braided hay and fall flowers, which she ate as soon as she got the opportunity.

Tony was happy to see Adam's grandparents, Jessica's mother and father there; Simon had been worried what they'd think, but their presence, happy if slightly wistful, reassured the groom's friend that the future for the family looked just what he'd have wished for them.

The food was delicious, and Tim, who was a connoisseur of such things, took a bite of a very tempting cup-cake with purple frosting. His eyes closed in total pleasure. Ziva saw his ecstatic expression, and tried one herself; she too sank into instant bliss. Gibbs and Tony exchanged a puzzled look. "D'you think they've got hash in them, Boss? Like in 'I Love You Alice B Toklas'?"

Gibbs' bewilderment intensified, and he reached for a cup-cake himself. He fell as utterly silent as his junior agents as he munched. Scott grinned and came over. "Added to my lines a week ago," he told Tony. "Already proving a best seller." He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to the agent. "This might explain a bit."

_Hi Tony,_

_Scott said he'd give this to you for me... I wanted to be there but I've got exams tomorrow. It seems easier, although I spend a lot of my spare time at the diner, or the dam, or the stables, or the newspaper – they all want to keep their eye on me, Tony, you wouldn't believe how kind they are. Well, you would._

_What was I saying? Oh yes, it seems easier for us to meet up in DC cuz we never seem to be in Duet at the same time. One day maybe we'll go riding together... I'll bring Jayce._

_Jayce? He gave me the amethyst, remember? Now we're an item. He made the cakes. Well, I helped, but I'm going to be the business side of the business. We started off in his mom's kitchen, but we couldn't keep up with the demand – Angelica's Heavenly Cup-cakes, his secret recipe – so when Liz introduced us to Scott, he tried them, said he'd help us market them, and found us a corner in his factory. _

_Like I said, I'll do the business side, and Scott says there's a job for me in his admin as well if I want it when I finish my studies. Who can tell the future – but it's better than I expected... and I think Jayce and me will stay together. As in always._

_How am I? I have moods when I feel really down and sad, but he's there for me, and I remember what you said last time we met about living up to what my dad did for me, so I do, and how lucky have I been to have such good people to help me? I'm so glad I met them. I'm so glad I met you!_

_My mom wrote me; she's on remand, says she'll write again when she knows how she feels about what the future holds, and asks me to be patient. So I will be. She set up a trust fund for me, so she's looking after me, maybe the only way she knows how._

_Btw... why do the Heavenly Cup-cakes – and they are, aren't they – have purple icing? You know the secret..._

_See you again soon. And I know I'm always saying thanks, but thanks._

_Angelica_

They walked up on the dam, full again now, and peaceful under the October sky, and the team, noticing Tony's thoughtful – and unusual – silence, gravitated to his side. He passed the letter around, and they understood. The ever telepathic Doris looked up at them from the base of the dam, and huffed in her usual manner, then went on eating for two, her garland, the grass, the one remaining cup-cake, and everything else she could see.

NCISNCISNCIS

The determined gossip and her sidekick down in the evidence garage had fallen out big-time with Molly the Mole, and were now having to supply their own scuttlebutt. After they'd scoffed at her claims that the girl's name was Liz, then Doris, then Dora, then Angelica – where on earth had she got _that_ one from – they then went on to work out when the baby she'd insisted was imminent really _was_ due. The latest possible would have been February, and it was now the end of March, and when they'd accused her of making the whole thing up, she'd taken umbrage and wouldn't spy any more. Well, not for them, anyway.

She didn't admit that she'd almost been caught by Officer David, when she'd tried to open another of _those _envelopes, and it had scared her so witless that she'd hardly thought of the saga of Tony's girl for a week; and although now she _was_, and the frustration was gnawing away at her, she was getting no-where.

Christmas came and went, and there'd been an odd atmosphere around the time when she thought the baby must be due, when Agent DiNozzo seemed to be under some pressure. She'd lurked by the staircase and heard Gibbs telling him he'd made him proud, but she couldn't fit that anywhere into her calculations... except maybe that Tony was going on supporting the girl even though she'd betrayed him... it was all getting silly, even by her standards, and she'd actually fallen out with her pals because of it. It was time to stop. She didn't care about it anyway. She really meant it. There... fixed. She gave her trolley a shove, set off on her evening collection round, and trundled into the bull-pen with a weight lifted off her shoulders.

Gibbs phone rang, and the man himself came hurrying round the corner to answer it.

"_Boss... it's happening!_

"You sure? There was a false alarm three days ago."

"_No, Boss, Sally says this time it's for real. I was on my way home and she called, so I'm already half-way there and going like the stuff off the shovel."_

"She OK?"

"_Sally says so, Amos is quite happy, only one who's having discumbobulations is me! I might need tomorrow off, Boss!"_

"You _might _need tomorrow off? Ya think? Ya need me to come?"

"_Need? No. Si and Adam are going over... Want, yes. If you want to come, be glad to see you. Up to you, Boss."_

"On my way. I'll let the others know." Molly stood transfixed as Gibbs strode to the elevator.

NCISNCISNCIS

Tony ran up the yard; the single light burned as all the other horses had been settled for the night, but there was an air of restlessness over the place. Bugs and Elmer, who lived out all year round, stood at the fence, and there was restless huffing and stamping from one or two of the boxes.

"Tony, come on son, you're needed here. Talk to the lady!"

The agent needed no second bidding, Doris was standing with her neck screwed right round, legs splayed, staring at her swollen flank in indignation. She still huffed happily when she saw him, but her attention went back to her strange internal sensations. She'd felt the foal move so many times over the months, and welcomed the feeling, her instincts telling her what was happening, and now she knew she had a job to do; but she was the most uncomfortable she'd ever been in her life, and she was trying to figure the best way to cope with it.

She lowered her head and pushed her broad forehead against Tony's chest, and he rubbed her ears and talked nonsense to her, until a spasm made her jerk her neck up again, and he had to lean back or be hit under the chin.

"Easy, gal..." She looked at him apologetically, and he rubbed her neck, nose and ears; any way he could to make her feel better. After about half an hour of her standing like that or walking small circles round her box, (during which time Sally went to make hot chocolate which she wondered if they'd ever drink – 'Don't worry,' Tony had told her, 'cold chocolate's fine!') Doris had lowered herself rather carefully down to the thick straw, knees first, then letting her back end follow very gently.

Amos picked her tail up and moved it out behind her, peered at her business end, and said quietly, "Yes, things look fine." He tucked a piece of clean sacking under her behind. "So the straw's still clean for her when we're done," he said quietly. Tony had watched birthing films, and knew what to expect if things were going well, but even so, his breath hitched at the sight of one tiny hoof beginning to appear. He scrambled back round to his mare's head, and started talking to her again. She nuzzled him occasionally, but most of her attention was on what she was doing; sometimes she'd raise her head from the straw to inspect the proceedings, but then she'd lie down again and huff distractedly.

"Is she OK?" Tony asked anxiously.

"She's doing fine, Tony. Textbook. Did I tell you I heard back from the stallion owners? They've both said that if the standard DNA test concurs, they'll acknowledge, and the foal can be registered in the stud book of both breeds."

Now Tony was distracted. "That... that's brilliant, Amos... gotta thank you for all the trouble... you sure she's OK?"

"Look here, then, we've got a nose!"

Tony looked, in wonder. The foal's head was beginning to come, still covered in the white amniotic membrane. Doris grunted and pushed, and Amos wrapped brown hands carefully round the small knees. "Give us another good push, me lady," he said softly, and when she did, he pulled. She swung her head round once more, then laid it down on Tony's knees and got on with things. Another push, a pull from Amos, a couple more, "She doesn't need me now," he said gruffly, and a few moments later the mare gave an enormous huff as the foal slipped out in a rush.

Amos cleared the sac away from its nose, and it took its first independent breath. Doris sat up as if the last forty minutes had never happened, and craned round to meet her offspring. A voice in the doorway breathed "Oh wow..." Tony hadn't even noticed Adam there with his Dad, the boy's eyes were as wide as his own. Amos cleared the membrane away; the foal was very dark, almost black from the amniotic fluid, but its mane and fluffy stub of a tail were lighter.

"Colt foal," Amos said cheerfully, "Big guy by the size of his feet. One white sock, -" Tony had already noticed the light forefoot, "and a star."

"We know who your Daddy is, little guy," Tony said. "Doris, you've been cavorting with a Quarter Horse."

"Blacktown Boxer," Simon said. He knew the story. "That's one fine sire, I applaud your taste, Doris."

The proud mom surged to her feet, carefully placing them away from her son. She bent her head down to him, as he raised his to look at her, and began to lick him round his head and neck, and after a while she nudged him. _Come on, on your feet, laddie..._

For the first time, Tony noticed Gibbs standing quietly looking over the door, and Sally with a video camera. The next ten minutes worth of Doris persuading her new foal to stand up would be a clip he'd treasure for the rest of his life. When he had all four legs braced, and was busy looking for a meal - ("They never need teaching that,") Amos said happily, Doris huffed proudly – at least Tony thought so, at him. _Look at my lovely baby!_

He patted her and told her what a wonderful girl she was, and then looked at Adam.

"He needs a name, Adam. He's half Quarter Horse and half Morgan, and he's very special. What will you call him?"

"Me? You want _me_ to give him a name?"

"A boy should have a horse, living out here in the mountains," Tony told him. "Doris trusts you, I trust you, Amos trusts you... you and your horse should grow up together, learn to look after each other... he's yours if you want him."

Adam stood with his mouth open. "If I want him..." he finally said slowly, then he stepped into the box and flung his arms round Tony. Doris head-butted them both.

"You see, she agrees."

Adam tentatively reached out to touch the colt's neck, and Doris didn't try to stop him, although she watched closely. The foal didn't object either. "DiNo," the boy said finally. "With a big N like in your name. DiNo, son of Doris."

NCISNCISNCIS

They decided to put poor Molly out of her misery. Her eavesdropping had got a bit obvious, and the morning that she left one of those envelopes on Tony's desk and looked at it hungrily, they decided to take pity on her. When she passed the bull-pen on her way back, there was nobody around, but the glossy photo of a dark chestnut mare and her star-faced foal was lying on Tony's desk. 'Doris and son', and yesterday's date was on the corner, and up on the mezzanine, the SFA saw the light-bulb snap on above Molly Parker's head.

As she raced out of the squad-room so fast her cart rattled, Vance said quietly at his elbow, "I think she's been in the mail room long enough... she's going to actually snoop before too long. I've asked HR to find her another position where she can't get into trouble."

Tony nodded, impressed. "That's very kind, Director. And very wise, if I may say so."

Vance humphed and went back to his office.

Down in the evidence garage, Molly danced out of the elevator. "I found out! I know what it's all about, " she squealed delightedly.

"What what's all about?"

"Agent DiNozzo... and the pregnant girlfriend! It's not a girl... it really is a horse! And she's had her baby! Tony's 'girl' is a _horse_!"

The determined gossip looked at her for a moment as if she'd just proved she was a few twigs short of a broomstick.

"Molly... that's really going too far. It's not just ridiculous... it's _sick_!"

"No... _wait._.." the voices disappeared into the depths of the evidence cavern.

The End

**Hope you enjoyed... nobody's picked up on nosey Molly's surname, btw!**


End file.
